Their First Christmas
by littlesoprano
Summary: The Christmas following the Spooky Island case, the Mystery, Inc. couples make some major decisions about their futures together. An extrawarmandfuzzy Journey of SelfDiscovery sequel.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer/Author's Notes:  All characters except Melissa (and, if you want to be technical, the salespeople) are property of Hanna-Barbera/Warner Bros.  This is a strictly not-for-profit, just-for-fun work.

I am going to try to finish this by Christmas, but I can't promise anything.  You know how the last few days before the holiday are!  

Their First Christmas

A Scooby Christmas Story by Littlesoprano

"Okay, I give up," Ethan Dace announced, as he, Fred, and Shaggy made their third unsuccessful trip through the misses section of the department store.  With Mystery, Inc. visiting Cleveland over the weekend to hear Ethan play at a local night spot, the men had taken the opportunity to do some Christmas shopping for their girlfriends at a large mall.

            "Ethan, these things take time," Fred asserted, shifting a heavy shopping bag into his other hand.  "We've only been here an hour.  Besides, how hard could it be to find clothes for Velma?"

            "I _know._  Here I thought I was gonna get off easy!"

            "I'm with you, man," Shaggy agreed.  "Like, I can't find anything that Mary Jane wears."

            "Yeah, she's not really into winter apparel is she?" put in Fred, thinking of Shaggy's girlfriend's impossibly small cut-off tops and shorts.  "Well, there you go.  She's moving to Coolsville, right?  She's gonna need some warmer clothes."

            Shaggy's face lit up with a smile at the thought of Mary Jane's impending move from California.  After seeing her only periodically since their adventure at Spooky Island and the month he and Scooby had spent in California following it, he was thrilled that they would finally be able to date without countless states between them.  During her last visit, she'd decided that she liked Coolsville and simply announced that she wanted to move there—it was just in her impulsive, hippie-drifter personality to do something just like that.  In the meantime, they'd written to each other just about every week, and he'd savored reading her letters-- all in her flowery cursive and adorned with bevies of colorful happy-face and peace-sign stickers.  

            "She's going to make it out here for Christmas, right?" Ethan asked, catching Shaggy's look.  He could relate very well to the beatnik's situation, he and Velma having somewhat of a long-distance relationship as well.  They saw each other just about every other weekend or so, but that wasn't enough when he wanted to be with her every day.  It couldn't be helped, though—not with Velma out on mysteries and he on the brink of recording his debut album.    

Shaggy was just giving an affirmative answer, his eyes practically glowing, when a saleswoman approached the group.

            "Can I help you gentlemen find anything?" she asked pertly, smiling at the sight of the three handsome—but somewhat helpless-looking—young men.  The one in the center, a broad-shouldered blond, seemed much more at ease than his two companions.

            "Yes," Freddy answered immediately, always the leader.  "We're shopping for our girlfriends."

            "Like, for Christmas," Shaggy put in helpfully.  The saleswoman had guessed as much, though it seemed unusual that a group of three guys would be getting their shopping done so early.  It was only the second week into December, and she was used to helping out panicked men doing last-minute shopping on Christmas Eve.

            "I see... so what can I help you find?" she asked.

            "Well, actually I'm okay." Fred continued.  As his enormous load of clothing could attest to, he'd had no problem shopping for his girlfriend, Daphne.  She loved just about anything he bought her, on top of the fact that she'd provided him with a fairly lengthy and detailed list.  The hardest part of his job had been trying to figure out the difference between 'thistle,' 'lavender,' and 'light orchid.'  "I think that my friend Ethan here was looking for..." he trailed off, letting Ethan take over.

            "Umm, yeah," Ethan began.  "I'm trying to find a couple of things but I'm not having much luck.  She said she wanted some more knee socks—orange ones—and a red pleated skirt.  Oh, she said if I couldn't find pleated then a straight skirt would be okay."

            The saleslady looked momentarily confused.  "We have those things," she started slowly, "but you'd have to try the private-school collection.  That's in girls..."

            "Girls?" Ethan repeated, looking even more confused than before.  "Ah, no I'm pretty sure that wouldn't work.  She's... well, she's small but..." No, surely that couldn't be right, he told himself.  Where on earth did Velma get those clothes, anyway?

            "Say," the salesgirl said, "you wouldn't happen to want a turtleneck sweater to go with all that, would you?" She couldn't resist teasing him a bit.  "Kind of that Velma Dinkley look?"

            Ethan grinned.  "My girlfriend _is_ Velma Dinkley."

            The clerk's mouth dropped open in delighted surprise.  "Oh, my-- really?"

            "Yeah."

            "And then... that would make you Ethan Dace!"  Ethan was visibly surprised; he'd had no idea he was becoming a "household name!"  The woman looked from him to the other two men.  "And Fred Jones and Shaggy Rogers!  I can't believe it!  I thought it looked like you but I had no idea you were ever up here in Cleveland."

            Fred, who loved being recognized, took over.  "Yeah, we came up to see Ethan play at one of the clubs."

            "Oh, I remember all of you from the gala on television... this is so exciting!"  The three men exchanged a smiling look as the saleswoman tried to regain a professional air through her flustered state.  "Oh, but I'm sorry, I should be getting you started on your shopping."

"No problem," replied Fred easily.

"Here, I know..." She led her clients over a few racks, then pulled out a red garment.  "For Miss Dinkley-- how about something like this?"

            Ethan looked over the small, ribbed turtleneck sweater made of stretch material.  "That's nice..." he mused out loud.  "She'd look great in that."  Velma was starting to branch out into some other clothing avenues, though she still stuck primarily with her favorite turtleneck-and-skirt ensemble.  The shirt that the saleswoman was showing him might be just about perfect—still a turtleneck, though a deep red instead of orange, and more form-fitting.  _Okay, so maybe it might be sort of a present for me, too_, Ethan allowed with a tremendous mental grin.

            "Do you know her size?  This one is a... large," she informed him, checking the tag.  Ethan stared at the tiny tube of material.

            "That's a large?" he asked incredulously.

            The saleswoman smiled knowingly.  "They're supposed to look small like this.  It's the material.  The sweater is very form-fitting."

            "Great!" Ethan blurted, bringing a peal of laugher from Shaggy and Fred.

            "Yup, I knew it—an Ethan-present!" Fred teased.

            "Like, why don't you just put 'to Ethan' on the tag, man," Shaggy added, cracking up.

            "Hey," Fred laughed, nudging Shaggy "at least it's not as obvious as that little present he tried to pick up upstairs."

            "Hey, it was orange," Ethan defended himself, feeling his face grow warm, though he was also smiling.  He couldn't remember the last time he'd blushed.  "She might have gone for it."

            "Maybe... in about five years!" Fred burst out.

            "Like, good one man!"

            Ethan cleared his throat and tried to focus on the saleswoman's earlier question, despite the very distracting laugher of his two friends.  "Her size... um, I don't know.  A medium?  Kinda like..." Trying to be helpful, he drew a feminine shape in the air—albeit a bit exaggerated.

            The clerk, highly amused, held back a head-shake.  Men really could be so funny sometimes, and this one was downright adorable.  "Well, from what I remember from seeing her on television, and from your... gesture there, I would guess either a medium or a large.  It's very hard to tell with this type of sweater, since they run so small."

            "I could call Daphne on her cell and ask her," Fred offered helpfully, having finally stopped laughing.  "I bet she'd know."

            "Yeah, I bet she would," Ethan agreed.  "Could you do that?"

            "Sure thing," Fred answered, pulling out his cell phone.

            Ethan looked over his potential purchase again, approvingly.  "There's just nothing like a girl in a sweater," he smiled.

--------------------

Meanwhile, in a nearby store...

--------------------

            "There's just nothing like a guy in a sweater," Velma announced to her best friend Daphne, holding out a dark grey cable-knit sweater at arms length.  

            "Oooo, Velma, he'd look great in that," Daphne said in agreement.  "You should get it."

            "Do you think he'd wear it, though?" her ever-practical friend replied.  "I don't think I've ever seen him wear one."

            "I bet he does.  And if not, well, he can try something new.  Or make it a... Velma-present."  The end of her sentence was punctuated by the sudden ring of her cell phone from her purse, and she began to fish it out.

            Deciding positively, Velma draped the sweater over her arm.  Ethan would look amazing in it, she was sure, and even thought it seemed silly, she really wanted to buy it for him.  For years, when she and Daphne would go out Christmas shopping for the guys and for their families, Velma had wanted so much to have a boyfriend to buy things for—cologne, ties, sweaters...  And now she did.  Of course she'd already bought him some definite "Ethan items" earlier:  heavy metal t-shirts, some CDs, some silver-and-black engraved rings-- things of that nature.  He was probably going to be thoroughly spoiled with so many gifts, but she didn't really care.  

            "Hello?" Daphne spoke into her phone.  "Oh, hi Freddy," she smiled.  "Me and Velma are doing some shopping... yes, for Christmas."  She giggled.  "Maybe for you and maybe not..."  There was a bit of a pause, during which Velma went to investigate some other clothing racks.  She generally didn't enjoy shopping, but she was loving every minute of picking things out for Ethan—for _her_ Ethan.  "Her size?" Daphne confirmed into the phone.  "In what?"  Another pause.  "Oh, for that I'd say probably a large, just to be on the safe side... uh-huh... yeah, and medium for just about anything else."  Daphne watched while Velma pulled out another sweater, a black one this time.  "Okay, I'll see you later. I love you, too!  Bye."

            Just as Daphne was ending her brief conversation, a dark-haired saleswoman slowly approached Velma.

            "Velma Dinkley?" she asked, no real question in her tone.  The petite young woman immediately turned to face her, holding the second sweater in her arms.  She knew the woman on sight—it was one of the two wardrobe women from Spooky Island—Melissa!

            "Hi," Velma spoke in recognition, her tone friendly.  Despite the fact that she had been fairly upset with Melissa after overhearing her conversation doubting she and Ethan's then just-new relationship, those feelings had long since faded.  Besides, Melissa had made up for it by doing a remarkably nice job adjusting one of the dresses for the gala just the way Velma wanted it.

            "I don't know if you remember me or not—I did wardrobe for you on Spooky Island.  Melissa?"

            "Of course," Velma replied.  She would have offered her a hand to shake, were her arms not currently occupied by the heavy knit garments.  "Have you retired from television work?" she asked, noting from the other woman's badge that she was employed with the store.

            "No, not exactly.  I'm in between TV jobs and thought I'd make a little extra money over the holidays.  I've visiting my parents here in Cleveland."

            "I see.  Small world, right?"

            "And how are you," Melissa asked, feeling a little uncomfortable, which was not typical for the usually blunt, somewhat jaded woman.  She'd said some things about Velma that she regretted back on the island, and though she didn't think the young detective had heard any of them, she'd always wondered if she'd picked up on her feelings nonetheless.  "I've seen a lot in the papers about you and Mystery, Inc.  Still cracking cases, huh?"

            "You bet," Velma smiled.  "And we're all fine."

            Mel paused, hesitating before she asked her next question.  A few months before she would have just blurted it out without a second thought... but, well, she'd gone through a few changes since her time on Spooky Island.  Changes that were partly due to the woman standing in front of her...

            "And how about you and Ethan?  I hope this isn't too personal, but are you two still together?"  Velma held up the black sweater in reply.  "Ah.  Well, you know, that's just great."  Melissa knew that the other woman could never know just how great that was to hear.  After seeing some of the positive changes that Velma made in her life during the time on Spooky Island, Mel herself had finally decided to make some as well.  She'd spent years envying the "in crowd" that she was never a part of—at school, at work-- and even more years being bitter over it.  She hated that she had to change who she was to even have a chance of garnering their attention, and then was even more disgusted with herself for trying it.  Then she'd met Velma Dinkley, a woman who had refused to change for anyone but herself—and who was happy that way.  They were actually similar people, she realized— both sarcastic, both a bit cynical-- only she had let bitterness keep her unhappy, while Velma had turned away from that.  Inspired by seeing how Velma acted at the gala, she'd made a definite effort to start focusing on the friends that she had instead of the popularity she'd always secretly craved.  Also, due to seeing Ethan and Velma's relationship—one that she before would have found impossible—she'd finally come forward with her feelings for the guy she'd been in love with for years.  She'd thought he wouldn't be interested because she wasn't the model-gorgeous type woman she was sure a guy like him would want—only to find out that he'd liked her all along.

            The crowded department store really wasn't the time or the place to be discussing such things, however.  "That's really great," she repeated.

--------------------

            "I think we're making progress," Fred observed as his little gang moved into the center of the store, near the glass counters of the cosmetics department.  Under the helpful ministrations of the saleslady, both Shaggy and Ethan had acquired several pieces of gift apparel.  For Mary Jane, Shaggy had chosen some bell-bottom jeans, long-sleeved peasant blouses, and two or three belts, and now stood fingering some beaded hair accessories that hung on a circular display.

            "You know, I bet I could make something like this for her," he pondered.  Shaggy had always been one for homemade presents, and the recipients of his thoughtful gifts were always happy with his original creations.  

            "Oh, that reminds me..." Fred picked up, moving to a nearby display.

            Ethan looked down at his soon-to-be purchases.  He'd found a few different sweaters (one of which was orange) but the main garment was a black leather skirt that the saleswoman had assured him would look terrific with the red sweater.  It was of real leather, and was both classy and modest.  In fact, it was longer than Velma's usual red miniskirts.  He'd been contemplating buying a matching tailored jacket when the group diverted to the cosmetics and bath section.

            "Okay, Shaggy I think this is gonna be it!" Freddy said, holding up what looked like... Ethan moved forward and took a closer look at the long strip of orange material.  Could it really be...

            "A glasses strap?" Ethan questioned the two men, who were starting up laughing again.

            "Oh, man, it's perfect!" Shaggy exclaimed.  "It's got bats on it!"

            "I know, is that great or what?" Fred agreed.  "Velma and those bats.  This must have been left over from Halloween or something."

            "Like, just our luck!"

            "Am I missing something?" Ethan asked, shaking his head.  As far as he knew, Velma didn't like using glasses straps, which he'd always thought was a little odd, considering how she always seemed to lose her glasses at the most incredibly inopportune moments.  She complained that they chafed at her neck, and she couldn't stand them.

            "We get one of these for Velma every year," Fred explained.

            "The most wacky one can find," Shaggy piped in.

            "It's kind of a running joke, 'cause we know she'll never use them.  Just gives us something else to tease her about when she loses her glasses during a case."  He and Shaggy looked at each other and then chorused in unison, "A GLASSES STRAP, VELMA!"  The two of them cracked up again, Ethan joining them.  He himself had witnessed his near-sighted girlfriend do some pretty darned silly things when she was glasses-deprived.

            "That's great, guys," he said.

            "We'll let you in on it," Fred offered, moving over to a group of display shelves.  "Oh, I'm gonna need some of this," he added, looking over large packages and baskets of bath-and-body products.  "Daphne is crazy about this stuff.  In fact..." he pulled out a piece of purple stationary from his pocket and consulted the list that was penned on it in Daphne's graceful cursive.  

            As Fred scanned the shelves for the appropriate scent and Shaggy searched for some organic soaps, Ethan looked over the displays in half-interest.  He'd bought similar items—along with standard perfume and jewelry—for some of his girlfriends in Christmases past,  but Velma didn't use anything like that so far as he knew.  She pretty much just smelled _clean_— like baby powder, soap, and plain shampoo.  The ribbon-bedecked baskets, full of pastel-colored lotions and sprays, just didn't seem like something she would buy.  At that thought, Ethan's mouth curved.  No, she probably wouldn't buy such things—for herself.  But she'd told him that one of the things that had really won her over, early on in their relationship, was how he was always doing things for her that went against her ultra-sensible image—an image that she admitted was partly due to her own actions.  While other men had either been too intimidated to approach her or had "romanced" her with science lectures and polite dinner dates, he had flirted gently but openly with her, sent her flowers, played her songs, given her a picnic on the beach...  grinning in remembrance, Ethan reached out and picked up a basket of items in 'orange blossom and vanilla' scent.  She just might like it after all.  She certainly liked it when _he_ wore cologne...

--------------------

            "That one has the aftershave, right?" Velma asked as the clerk in men's cologne reached into the glass display case.  Having said goodbye to Melissa after accepting her offer of lunch the next day, she and Daphne had moved onto their next major stop in shopping for the guys.

            "Umm hmmm," the clerk replied, drawing out a large package of Cool Water products and setting it in front of the young brunette to look over.  "This is pretty much the entire spread," she explained, slipping off the outer sleeve so Velma could see all the contents.  "You've got your cologne, aftershave, deodorant... everything."

            "I'll take it," she stated immediately, smiling.  It might have been a bit of a splurge, but Cool Water was Ethan's favorite scent.

            "Could I look at that?" Daphne asked, pointing up to a shelf behind the clerk.

            "Certainly," the woman obliged, turning to pull the desired box down.  "This is a hot lather machine... very popular this year."

            "Freddy would love this," Daphne said, turning the package around in her hands.  "You know, he has to shave like, twice every day.  Otherwise he gets all scratchy," she added, wrinkling up her nose a little.  Evidently she wasn't keen on being the recipient of his "scratchy" condition.

            "Ethan has one of those—he really likes it," Velma informed her helpfully.  In fact, her boyfriend had a literal plethora of shaving items—for such a casual guy, he really was downright finicky when it came to keeping up his carefully-trimmed goatee.  That was part of the reason she'd been so surprised one morning, during the trip they'd taken with her parents, when he'd asked her if she'd help him shave.  Of course, he didn't need the help, and she'd known from his playful smile that he was pulling some of his more open flirting—but she liked it.  Who could have ever pictured it— the ever-reserved Velma Dinkley—sitting on a guy's lap and playing along with his flirting...  Well, she reasoned, Ethan had certainly brought out some new facets to her personality!  Once she'd actually had him lathered up and held the razor in her hand, though, she'd gotten incredibly nervous about cutting him, or worse-- accidentally taking off half his moustache, for instance, or something equally tragic.  The look on her face as she started in became so intense with concentration that Ethan had laughed at her.  Of course she'd had to get him back—resulting in some of the hot lather "accidentally" smearing on his shirt...  Velma shook her head with the memory.  They'd made quite the pair, turning up in the hallway at her parents' knock, sheepish but giggling, covered with shaving cream.  Her hair had been full of it, while Ethan had her soapy handprint emblazoned on the front of his shirt.

            Daphne eyed Velma suspiciously, wondering what was behind the private little smile that was making its way across her friend's face.  "I'd like this, please," she told the clerk.    

--------------------

            "Well, I think that about does it for me," Ethan said, passing by the jewelry and watch counter.  Velma wasn't much into jewelry, nor did she wear a watch with any kind of frequency.  She was the only girl he'd ever met who could tell time by the position of the sun—something she'd probably picked up with all of her astrophysics study.

            "Like, me too," Shaggy agreed.  "I'm gonna make some bracelets and stuff for Mary Jane.  She likes hemp jewelry."

            "Cool," Ethan replied.  "Hey, what about you, Fred?  Something tells me that Daph would dig some of this stuff."

            "Umm, yeah," Fred spoke up, his voice suddenly growing quiet.  Uncharacteristically quiet...  "About that... uh, I wanted to ask you guys if you'd maybe help me out with something."  Freddy awkwardly ran a hand through his already perfectly-styled hair.

            "Yeah?" Ethan prompted.

            "Well, while I was here in Cleveland I thought... since there's a better selection and everything... that I might look for—a ring."  Ethan and Shaggy exchanged a look as Freddy plowed ahead.  "I wanna ask Daph to marry me."


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Notes:  So much for having this done by Christmas...  The next update should come much more quickly, as it is actually almost done.  This chapter was originally part of a much longer one, which explains the probably abrupt ending.

            "Okay, the guys are just plain crazy," remarked Daphne, looking out through the over-sink window in Freddy's new kitchen.  Outside in the driveway, he, Shaggy, and Ethan were playing a rowdy game of basketball—despite the fact that the Christmas Eve day was literally freezing.  The remnants of a snowfall over the weekend still clung stubbornly in piles on the lawn and along the sidewalks.  Nevertheless, the guys had been determined, and she and Velma, snug in the warm kitchen, had been listening to their excited shouts and hollers for about he past hour, along with many barks by Scooby.  The giant Dane, dressed in a scarf and cap, was acting as mascot and cheerleader for all three players.  "It's that new hoop his dad gave him yesterday," she continued of Freddy.  "I guess he just couldn't wait to try it out."

            "Oh, you know men," Velma spoke up from the counter, her voice laced with joking sarcasm.  "They have to stake out their territory.  Been doing it since the beginning of time."

            "Maybe so," Daphne assented, her voice lilting with an upcoming tease.  "But that hasn't stopped you from staring out that window for the whole afternoon."

            "I have not!" her friend defended, sounding scandalized.

            "Velma, you've been stirring that same batter for the past half-hour."

            Velma immediately looked down at the bowl she held—a bowl full of _extremely_ well-mixed gingerbread batter.  "Okay, so they look cute while they're staking out their territory."  Daphne giggled, and Velma looked over at her.  "And I don't think you've made so much progress, either," she retorted, noticing that the redhead had only cut out about one sheet of cookies.

            "Guilty," laughed Daphne, punching out a star shape with a cookie cutter.

            Velma's eyes again drifted to the window, where she had a clear view of the three men playing out in the cold air.  They were laughing-- their breath puffs of steam-- and playing what looked like a very disorganized game. Ethan had the ball, but a moment later he was playfully shoved into the snow-covered grass by Freddy.  Shaggy, unable to stop as he ran towards them, toppled Fred.  Velma smiled and shook her head.  _Boys will be boys_, she thought to herself, amused by their youthful antics.  To tell the truth, she was surprised to see Ethan out there, for he wasn't into sports at all.  He'd told her once, a few months into their relationship, that it was due to the fact he'd been teased so much about his lack of athletic ability when he was younger.  Of course she hadn't told Daphne this, when they'd first watched the guys go out, and not because she didn't trust her friend with the information.  It was just that it was such an incredibly personal and private thing he'd shared with her, and one that she couldn't imagine would be easy to admit.  Ethan was very comfortable with himself and his abilities, especially for a man so young as he was, but she still knew that many men wouldn't have wanted to talk about such a thing—especially considering the emphasis placed on being good at sports.  

            "Oh, look, I think they're getting ready to come in," Daphne observed.  "They're picking up their coats and stuff."  The men had gone out dressed for the weather, but midway into their game they'd shed their coats, warmed by body heat as the game intensified.  "Do you think they'll want some cider?"

            Velma glanced over to the pot of simmering beverage on the stovetop, which was giving off an incredibly inviting and savory aroma as the spices within it steeped.  "I don't know," she thought aloud.  "I'm not sure if they'll be hot or cold!"

            Despite the uncertainty, Daphne began ladling some of the hot drink into mugs, just as the three guys came tramping in the door, stopping first to stomp powdered snow off their shoes and brush it from their sweatshirts and pants.  All three pulled warm knit caps from their heads and re-arranged their disheveled hair—or Ethan and Freddy did.  Their faces were flushed and glowing from their exercise and the chill winter air, and when the girls moved close to them to hand out the drinks, they could feel heat practically radiating from their bodies.  Scooby arrived in the door at their heels, having first given himself a good shake to fling off some loose snow from his fur.

            "Who won?" Daphne asked, giving Fred a steaming mug.  "Was it a good game?"

            "We didn't keep score," Fred answered, surprising Daph.  Usually he was very competitive.  "I'd say we were just about even--  I might have been ahead a little," he couldn't resist adding.  He'd actually been quite a bit ahead, but neither of the other men corrected him.  Both Shaggy and Ethan had definitely held their own, though.

            "Here, Scooby," Daphne addressed the dog, placing a big bowl of cider on the floor within his reach.  Three seconds later, the bowl was drained in one massive slurp.

            Ethan, like Fred and Shaggy, gratefully and happily downed his drink, gulping it as if it were water.  As he moved toward the stove in the now-crowded kitchen, hoping for a refill, he couldn't resist reaching out and laying one of his cold hands along the back of his girlfriend's neck, just below her hair and above the line of her sweater.  Despite the fact that his body felt furnace-hot inside, his skin, tingling with the change in temperature, bore evidence of the freezing temperatures outside.

            Velma let out a surprised yelp at the flash of shocking cold on her skin, and spun immediately to face the perpetrator.  He bit back a laugh, looking at the ceiling and doing his best impersonation of innocence.  It didn't work.

            "Eth—annn!" she exclaimed, trying to look put-out.  It really didn't go over any better than his feigned innocence, and she knew it.  "Your hand is freezing," she informed him needlessly.

            "A kiss would warm me up," he told her, his voice smooth and low so that only she could hear his request.  Velma suddenly felt as if she'd swallowed down a little of the hot cider herself.  Her eyes darted quickly about the room, noticing that everyone seemed fairly occupied with hanging up coats and ladling out more cider.  Though she had loosened up considerably due to her relationship with Ethan, she still really wasn't much for public affection.  All eyes more or less diverted, she stretched up to fulfill Ethan's request.  The spicy-sweetness of the cider clung to his lips, and she stayed there a little longer than she'd planned.  "Very nice," he said softly when she pulled away.  Noticing that she seemed effected, he continued.  "Well, you know, I've got this whole masculine thing going here."  She cocked her head, trying to read his meaning.  "I mean, hey, check it out—I'm even sweating."

            "And that's noteworthy why...?" Velma asked, her mouth tipping.

            "Ah, I don't know," Ethan said, straightening up and putting his hands on his hips with a jaunty air.  "It's not something I do very much."  This was a half truth, for Ethan actually did do that fairly often—in a non-sports, on-stage context.  Nonetheless, he continued, if only to get a reaction from his skeptical-looking girlfriend.  "It feels... strong, manly—primal."  He was hamming it up to the extreme, tossing his chin up into the air and preening.

"Primal, eh?" she questioned, eyebrows raising in joking fun.  "Jinkies, what are you going to do next, throw me over your shoulder and carry me back to your cave?"

            The spectators to the little scene had long since started laughing, and started up even harder as Ethan crouched down a little, resting his hands on his knees and aiming a "menacing" growl in Velma's direction.  After seven months of Ethan and Velma being together, their friends were plenty used to seeing the two of them play around like this.

            "Men!" Velma finally bantered at him, out of anything else to say.

            It was Fred's turn to tease.  "Oh, come on Velms, you know you like it," he joked, reaching out and tugging the ends of her short hair before turning to the other two participants of the basketball game.  "If you guys wanna take showers now I can get some towels and stuff.  Unless you don't want to loose that _primal_ feeling," he aimed at Ethan, bringing more laughs.

            "Like, yeah man," Shaggy replied at once, showing an uncharacteristic enthusiasm for bathing.  "I gotta go get Mary Jane at the station soon!"

            "I'll take you up on that, too," Ethan agreed, sorry to leave off teasing Velma while he was ahead, but badly wanting to clean up as well, primal or no.

            "Shaggy, you know where the upstairs bathroom is, right?" Fred addressed his other friend, who was trying to weasel some cookie dough from Daphne's bowl.  He paused to nod an affirmative answer.  "There's lots of towels in the right-hand cupboard under the sink, and there should be shampoo and fresh soap already in the shower."

            "Thanks, Fred," Shag answered, heading out of the kitchen, casting one last wistful glance at the cookie dough.

            "Eth, you can have the downstairs.  C'mon, I'll show you where it is."  The obligatory arrangements having been made, Freddy led Ethan through the large house to the downstairs bathroom, pausing to pull a fresh towel from a hallway linen closet.         
            "This is a really great place," Ethan commented, looking over Fred's new house for the first time.  The other man had purchased it only about a month before, and the gang was spending Christmas Eve and Christmas there as a kind of housewarming.  Located in one of Coolsville's nicest neighborhoods, it was large but modestly so, though Fred could have perhaps afforded a ritzier place.  His reward money for solving the Spooky Island case, plus tons of royalties for television appearances and interviews, had boosted the already well-off Fred into a new financial bracket.  "It's really big, too—and your first house and everything."

            "Well, I wanted to have enough room for me and Daph," Fred explained quietly.  "And well, you know, we might have kids."  Freddy smiled, and Ethan could tell immediately that Fred would be very happy with that prospect.  It was funny—when Ethan had first met him he didn't seem much like a guy who would be interested in marriage, much less having children.  He acted just about like the consummate bachelor—his time in an actual relationship with Daphne had changed him in that way.  "I mean, if she says yes..."

            "I'm sure she will, man," Ethan assured him, a little perplexed by the return of Fred's less-than-confident behavior.  After all, he and Daphne were pretty much a canon-couple.  Did he really think she might turn him down?  "You've prob'ly already talked about it... right?"

            "Yeah," Fred replied.  "We've talked about it a lot."

            "See, no problem."  Ethan laughed with a new thought.  "You know, I'll bet you she already knows you're gonna do it.  Women have some kind of radar about that or something..."  The younger man trailed off as he realized that Fred seemed lost in thought.

            "I don't know, Eth," Fred said a moment later from his almost-daze.  "It's like—well, I've just kinda always known I would marry Daphne someday.  It's not like I have cold feet or anything like that.  It's just finally, really asking.  You know?"  Ethan nodded, trying to understand what his friend was trying to explain, even though he really hadn't experienced such a situation himself.  "Just wait 'till it's your turn, pal.  You'll know exactly what I'm saying."  This thought seemed to cheer Fred, and he smiled and continued.  "Now _there's_ an intimidating situation—proposing to Velma!  Whoa, think about _that_!"  Laughing a bit, Fred turned to go, leaving Ethan to his shower.  Alone in the hallway, Ethan spoke again, softly.

 "I think about it all the time."


	3. Chapter 3

            "Can I help?" Ethan asked Velma, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms fully around her waist while she stood at the counter.  Distractions removed, she was making considerable progress on her gingerbread cookies and was beginning a new sheet.

            "Do you want to help or steal dough?" she questioned him as he rested his chin on her shoulder.  "What with Shaggy and Scooby's 'taste tests' I'm surprised there's any left."  In the corner, Scooby giggled, his head covered in loose flour.  Shaggy had left to pick up Mary Jane at the bus station.  His canine pal, usually at his side, had stayed behind as he disliked the noisy, crowded terminal.  That, and he felt he was badly needed to conduct some more of the aforementioned taste tests.

            "Help," Ethan replied, reaching out and placing one of his hands over her small one as she punched out another cookie.  At the other corner, Daphne looked on.  Considering how reserved the female half of this couple was, they really were pretty "gushy."

            "Oh, wait," Velma stopped Ethan, who was about to lift the cookie cutter out of the rolled dough.  "It's much easier if you press all the cutters you are going to use in first, then pull the excess away all at once."

            "That's my Velma— always practical," Ethan said, leaving the cutter and reaching for another out of a large bag that Daphne had brought.  "Hey!" he announced, surprised at the cutter that his hand came away with.  "This one's shaped like a Scooby Snack!"  At the immediate sound of the words, the treat's namesake began leaping about the kitchen, wagging his tail enthusiastically and barking out all manner of happy exclamations.

            "Don't worry, we see you Scooby," Daphne assured him.  "We're baking plenty of these just for you."

            "Ro roy! Ro roy!"  Scooby voiced his overwhelming approval.

            "That cookie cutter was new this year," Daphne explained to Ethan, who still held it.  "If you look around in there there's some other ones—Scooby, his dog tag... they came in a whole set."  Following the Spooky Island case, myriads of merchandise detailing the famous mystery-solving team had hit the market, mostly items that centered around the adorable Scooby.

            "What about the rest of the gang?" Ethan asked.

            "No such luck," Velma told him, her monotone delivery hinting at an annoyance that really wasn't there.  Appreciation for her work was one thing—mass merchandising another.  Velma wasn't one to cry herself to sleep over not being on a toothbrush.  Neither, for that matter, were Daphne or Shaggy, and if Fred was upset by it he never let on.  Interest in his book had soared after the Spooky Island incident, and the new publicity for it was enough to keep him happy.

            "But what if I want a Velma-cookie?" Ethan questioned the room in general.

            "A Velma-cookie?" his girlfriend repeated, turning to him with a raised eyebrow.

            "I guess you'll just have to make it yourself," Daphne suggested.  

             "Okay," Ethan accepted easily, picking up a knife and sprinkling it with some extra flour.  An over-obvious whine interrupted his first cut.  "Don't worry, Scoobs," he said over his shoulder.  "We haven't given up on your Snacks."  Scooby heaved a sigh of relief.

            "What's up, Scoob?" Freddy asked the Dane, hearing the dog's heavy breath as he entered the kitchen.  His damp blond hair and soap-clean scent told of his freshly-showered state.  Despite the fact that he was addressing Scooby, his eyes immediately locked on Daphne at her place across the room, and he could feel his heart practically jump and commence speeding away in his chest.  It happened every time he saw her now, just like it had back when they were first dating.  Surely she'd noticed how differently he'd been acting around her lately—maybe that was all there was to that 'radar' Ethan had been informing him of earlier.  

            "Rhey're raking re Rooby Racks!" Scooby told him, tail thumping.

            "Not exactly real Scooby Snacks," Daphne corrected.  "They're gingerbread cookies in the shape of them."  This meant very little to the dog in question—he loved anything edible, after all.

            "Let's see here," Freddy said, moving over to check out the proceedings at the flour-coated counters.  On his way to Daphne's station, he couldn't help but notice the distinctly non-Snack shape that Ethan was just finishing.

            "I hate to tell you this, Eth," he joked, "but that does _not_ look like a Scooby Snack."

            "I should hope not," Velma deadpanned with a little more emphasis than usual.

            Daphne giggled.  "There aren't any cookie cutters of the gang, so Ethan is making his own... umm... Velma cookie."

            Fred let out a short laugh, then looked from the subject to her culinary counterpart.  "Nice resemblance," he smiled.

            "Yeah... to an ancient Cro-Magnon fertility goddess," Velma rejoined.

            Ethan remembered pictures of those particular statues from his ancient history textbooks in high school—mainly because of the immature jokes that had arisen from them by some of the guys.  "It's not that bad," he defended lightly.

            This was actually true, and Velma well knew it, though she still had to dish Ethan one back for his earlier triumph in their banter war and figured she may as well stick with her cave-man theme.  "Jinkies, I don't know whether to be flattered or what."

            "Hey, I wanna try," Fred announced, coming up next to Daphne and looking over her unfinished roll of dough.

            "Me, too," Daphne agreed, getting an extra knife out for Fred.  She'd helped him unpack and organize this things after the move, and knew her way around the house as well as he did.  The couple worked in silence for several moments, until she looked over to see his progress.  "Freddy!"  she immediately exclaimed.

            "What?" Fred asked innocently.

            "I don't really stand like that!  I look like I'm going to dislocate a hip!"  Fred and Velma bit their lips, trying to stifle laughs.  Even so, some escaped.  "Well, fine!" she finished, mock-pouting.  Hurriedly she produced a cookie of her own, which her boyfriend viewed in disbelief.

            "You made me all scrawny!"  he spluttered.  Daph grinned at him, then popped up on tiptoe to give him a surprise kiss.  A moment later they both set to work adjusting their cookies.

            Velma, meanwhile, was showing her own masterpiece off to its model, Ethan.  "And I'm totally buffed out," he noted aloud, satisfaction in his voice.  "Check out those biceps."  He knew she had exaggerated matters a bit in that department— but he wasn't going to correct her.  "Yeah, I'm a stud," he jokingly bragged, to which Velma shot him a curved-mouth look.  This was not to say that she disagreed with his statement— to her Ethan really was quite the "stud."

            "We should make some of these for Shaggy and Mary Jane," Daphne suggested.  "Hey, when do you think they might get here?"

            Fred consulted his watch.  "If the bus was on time they should be on their way home by now.  The station isn't that far."

            This announcement made, the room dissolved into light conversation as its occupants finished up with their baking efforts.  After finishing some very good representations of the remaining couple and punching out numerous Scooby Snacks, the little gang sat back to sip more hot cider and enjoy the aroma of the baking cookies.  Several sheets were already done and cooled, but they held off eating them until their absent friends arrived.  Poor Scooby was practically salivating in tortured anticipation.

            Thankfully, he did not have to wait long, and the ring of the front doorbell brought him bounding and scurrying to reply.  Not only was the promise of cookie-eating eminent, but Scooby was looking forward to seeing Mary Jane again.  Though he had initially been jealous of the new person in Shaggy's life, he found that he genuinely liked the pretty, nature-loving girl, and came to accept that it was right for Shaggy to want a female companion.  His best pal had also become more careful about not excluding Scooby when they were altogether, and his dog had learned that Shaggy wanting some time just with his girlfriend did not mean he didn't love him anymore.  On a smaller scale, Mary Jane's use of allergy medicine had also helped things along.  Forgiving as he was, Scooby really wasn't keen on being sneezed on.

            "Hey guys!" Shaggy called out as his friends migrated from the kitchen to greet the new arrival.  "Like, look who I found hanging around the bus station!"

            "Ri, Rary Rane!" Scoob greeted her happily, sidling up next to the blonde girl.

            "Hi, Scooby!" she returned with just as much enthusiasm, bending down to scratch the dog behind his ears.  "Hi guys!" she greeted the rest of the gang perkily, bounding up to each member with a hug.  Velma couldn't quite hide a taken-aback look when Mary Jane flung her arms around her neck unreservedly, but she returned the hug, trying hard not to look awkward about it.  She and Shaggy's new girlfriend really didn't know one another all that well, despite the fact that she'd accompanied them on two mysteries, yet she was simply the kind of "huggy" person that approached even casual acquaintances with friendly abandon.  Though they were totally different personalities, Velma liked her, and not just for Shaggy's sake.  The young woman's sunny disposition had a way of lighting up every situation, which the reserved Velma could appreciate.   

            After Ethan had received his hug (causing him to look even more surprised than his girlfriend had) Fred carried Mary Jane's overnight bag to the correct guest room while the others set out the snacks, looking forward to a happy afternoon of catching up.

--------------------

            "Look, everyone— me and Freddy are getting married!" Daphne announced to the room in general.  "Now we get to collect presents!"

            Daphne's statement would have been terribly materialistic—were the gang not playing Life, one of their favorite board games.  She and Fred, playing as a team, had just landed on the 'Get Married' space, requiring the other two couples to shell out some major moolah for the celebration.  Groaning good-naturedly, they forked over the allotted amount of "cash", which Daphne collected in a neat pile.*

            "Ah, come on, you know you love us," Fred joked with them, his voice normal even though he felt unsettled.  Despite the fact that they were only playing a game, Fred's heart had nearly fallen out of his chest when Daphne'd announced their "marriage."  Reminding himself again to keep his cool, he turned his attention to Shaggy, who was addressing he and Daph.

            "Like, will you take a s'more instead?"  Shaggy asked, offering one of the gooey treats.  Between turns he'd been toasting marshmallows in the fireplace, aided by Scooby, who had appointed himself the game's official refreshment provider.  Besides making countless s'mores (including some carob ones for himself—chocolate not being good for him) the dog had also turned out some incredible-looking caramel apples.    

            "Reah! Reah!" Scooby agreed.  Food certainly seemed like an acceptable payment method to _him_.  Loading some more of the snacks on a large plate, he handed them around to the players as Ethan spun the wheel.

The seven friends were lying on the den floor around the game board, draped in blankets in front of the fire.  In the corner, lights twinkled on the Christmas tree, and cheery Christmas music piped softly through the speakers.  To further get into the cozy spirit of the evening, everyone had changed into their pajamas as well.  Shaggy's attire looked oddly similar to his regular garb—he was clad in the same long, olive green t-shirt, but he'd paired it with red pajama pants in lieu of his usual bell-bottoms.  Mary Jane and Daphne wore pajama bottoms teamed with lace-edged tank-tops, while Velma of course wore sensible, long-sleeved red flannels.  Fred looked wonderful in his dark blue, silk button-down top and matching pants, and Ethan wore a similar outfit in a deep, black-cherry color.  Not much on pajamas, Ethan had taken them on the insistence of his older brother Aidan, who's early Christmas present they were.  Evidently he'd wanted his younger brother to be well-dressed at the party.  Whatever the reason, Velma was thankful.  The color was perfect for him, and she'd been trapped in a nearly constant stare ever since he'd put them on.   

            "Oh, look Vel," Ethan grinned, moving their orange car forward after his spin.  "We've just had two more kids."

            "Jinkies, this is getting ridiculous," his not-overtly-maternal partner uttered as Ethan triumphantly fished out two more "baby pegs" –one blue and one pink-- from their plastic baggie.  

            "Look, you have to add another car!" Fred laughed, pointing.  Indeed, Ethan and Velma's playing piece was completely filled by their numerous "offspring" – they'd already had to lay two of the pegs across the rows.

            "Like, you're the man, Eth!"  Shag congratulated him.

            "Oh, brother," replied Velma.

            "I'd like to have a lot of kids someday," Mary Jane said, thoughtfully, as she took her turn spinning the number wheel.  "Maybe not.."  She quickly consulted Ethan and Velma's cars.  "... _eight_... but a lot."

            "Like, me too," Shaggy agreed, smiling.  "We'll have Shaggy Jr. and Mary Jane Jr..."  His girlfriend beamed at him, even if she _did_ think that 'Mary Jane Junior' sounded a bit strange.  It was the thought that counted, after all.

            Fred took all this in, thinking so intently that he nearly forgot to take his turn.  Though they were only playing a lighthearted game, he wondered if any of the rest of them noticed how they had automatically paired themselves off for marriage, for children.  He wondered, especially, if Daphne had noticed.  Even with the game aside, there was such a natural assumption about all three of the couples, an assumption that they would all eventually marry.  Tomorrow, he would be the first to make that assumption a reality... he hoped.

--------------------

            "What is this, Fred?"  Daphne asked as Fred slipped a video into the VCR.  The  gang had just finished singing a round of Christmas songs, accompanied by Ethan and Shaggy on their guitars, but were now all waiting expectantly as Fred prepared for a special presentation.

"It's a surprise," he answered her, eyes twinkling, as he hit the lights.  Coming back over to the loveseat he'd been sharing with Daphne, he slid back under their blanket just as the first images of a home movie filled his big-screen TV.  Around the room, the other couples were similarly situated—Shaggy and Mary Jane snuggled up in a huge beanbag chair, while Ethan and Velma lay side-by-side on the couch.  Scooby's large frame was stretched out languorously in front of the fire.

From the first few seconds of the tape, it was clear that the recording was more than twenty years old— though there was no date, the picture quality, color, and limited camera range all bespoke an early-model home camcorder.  It showed a Christmas from many years back, and though the furniture and decorations were slightly different, most of those present recognized the setting as the Dinkley living room.  The camera was focused on two boy toddlers—one blonde-headed and already strapping, the other thinner with a light brown mop of hair—and one younger girl, still crawling and having a much better time throwing the wrapping paper about the room than playing with her new presents.

            "It's our first Christmas together," Velma nearly sighed, her nasal voice soft with nostalgia.  "Almost all together," she added.

            "Yeah, where's Daphne?" Ethan asked her, noting the absence of a redheaded toddler in the video.  "And I take it Scoobs wasn't born yet."  What he was really hoping for was some embarrassing Velma footage.  His mother had embarrassed him out of his mind by showing Velma some of his baby pictures, some of which weren't all that flattering.  Velma's personal favorite had been the one of him dressed in a cape, his hair sticking straight up with shampoo, doing a super-hero impersonation.

            "We didn't meet Daph until a few years later, in school," Velma explained.  "But Fred, Shaggy, and I's parents all knew each other even before we were born, because we only lived about a block apart.  They all used to get together for Christmas, and brought us along."

            "And the rest is history," Fred finished.

The camera turned away from the two boys, who were "driving" new toy trucks across the carpet, to the little girl.  Even though she obviously wasn't wearing glasses yet in the video, everyone immediately recognized the one-and-a-half-year-old self of Mystery Inc.'s youngest member—Velma.  She had a soft round baby face capped with a head of dark hair, and was wearing a little orange jumper over a diaper and tiny, matching orange socks.  After staring right at the camera for several seconds, she scooted over quickly and reached out a hand to the strange new instrument, curious.

            "No, no, Velma," came the voice of the camera's operator, Mr. Dinkley.  Looking almost disappointed, baby Velma diverted her attention to the Christmas tree and in a flash crawled behind it to investigate matters.

            Mimicking what he had just heard, little Fred toddled over to the errant girl—though his toddling, even then, held a bit of a swagger.  "No, Ve-ma," he repeated, authority in his three-year-old voice.  His correction totally ignored, he reached under her arms and hauled his petite playmate up, meaning to bring her away from the tree—an action that was met with a downright annoyed cry from the unwilling Velma.

            "Freddy, put Velma down," his mother instructed, and the little boy obliged, partly because Velma was flailing around so much that he could barely hold on.  Reseated, she grabbed up Fred's new, plastic toy magnifying glass— and stuck as much of it as she could directly into her mouth.

            Watching, the entire gang burst out laughing.  "That's the start of a beautiful friendship, right there," Fred observed, bringing more laughs.

            "Where are you?" Mary Jane asked Shaggy a moment later.  "You just disappeared."

            "Like, prob'ly the kitchen," Shaggy smiled.  As if in answer to his girlfriend's question, the camera panned over and revealed the sandy-haired little boy nearly hidden behind a mound of wrapping paper.  His face and hands were coated in sticky, melted chocolate.

            "Norville Rogers!" his mother exclaimed on the tape.  "I told you had to wait until after Christmas dinner to eat the candy from your stocking."

            "Sorry," little Shaggy answered sheepishly.  "I forgot."

            "Don't worry," his father noted quietly to his mother—but not so quietly that the camera didn't pick it up.  "I've never seen a boy that could eat that much!  He'll finish his dinner."

            "There's something that hasn't changed!" Daphne teased, just as a new video segment came up.  

            "Awwwwww," the entire room chorused immediately as the screen filled with an image of baby Scooby.

            "Rey!  R'hat's me!" Scooby announced, pleased.

            "It sure is, buddy," Shaggy replied.

            "You're just a tiny puppy," Daphne continued.  "Oh, and look, there's me."  Indeed, her preteen self had just debuted on the screen, wearing, not surprisingly, a dark purple minidress.  Her shoulder-length red hair was perfectly styled, and she carried herself with none of the typical pre-teen awkwardness.  Unlike many people, Daphne had not gone through that particular phase.

            The same thing could be said of Freddy, who, as the young teenager on the video, looked confident and suave as ever, and showed the beginnings of his later broad-shouldered, ultra-brawny physique.  In this particular clip, the gang was at a Christmas Eve party, and Fred and Daphne began dancing expertly while Shaggy and Velma, standing in the background, shyly contemplated the idea.  They had always been such a good pair, the two of them, Daphne thought to herself as she watched.  Well, maybe not always, she had to admit, thinking of Fred's sometimes ridiculous overblown bravado as a boy, matched with her fussy vanity.  If someone would have told her back then that the two of them would have ended up together...  But by the time this clip was taken, that had all changed.  It had been so easy for them to come together, as it all seemed so natural, but at the same time they had never fully given in.  Maybe it was the fact that everyone seemed to expect it, or maybe that they were too afraid of ruining their friendship—probably a little of both.  And then Fred had started to change and so had she...  Well, they had come through all of that, and now here they were, an absolute couple at last.  And if what she was predicting was right, they might soon be more than that...

There were several more clips, not all of Christmases.  Fred had considerately added some footage from some recent mysteries on which Mary Jane and Ethan had assisted the gang, not wanting to leave them out.  As the video went on, playing into the darkened room, Ethan felt Velma change positions in his arms, turning over so that she lay against him, her cheek to his chest.  Automatically he reached one hand up to her shoulders, trying to work some of the tension loose.  Though personality-wise she'd loosened up noticeably over the past year, the same couldn't be said for her always-rigid posture and close, controlled movements and stride.  She worked those muscles into the most awful knots.  Ethan adjusted the pressure a bit, realizing that he didn't have to press as hard through her flannel nightshirt as he did through the heavy knit sweaters that were forever bunching up under his hands.

            A few minutes into his attentions, Velma let out a soft, relaxed sigh.  She couldn't remember ever feeling so safe and secure—and she'd never realized before how much she—ever-brave Velma—appreciated that feeling.  Drowsy and warm and comfortable beyond belief, she closed her eyes.  

--------------------

            "Velma?" Ethan said quietly, trying to wake her after the lengthy video ended.  "Velma, wake up, love."  The others were starting to rise from their seats, though reticent to leave their warm blankets and comfortable positions.  While the girls, Shaggy, and Scooby gathered up the food trays and plates, Fred turned the lights back on and clicked off the TV.  Even though the others squinted at the change from dark to light, Velma didn't so much as stir.

            Daphne, noticing, addressed the situation.  "She's out for the night, Ethan," she informed the young man, who of course was currently being used as a pillow.  "Believe me, unless oh... a vampire pops up by the bed or something, she's not going to wake up."  Daphne would know this, as she and Velma had shared many a room during the all their years of mystery-solving.

            Ethan had no problem with her staying right where she was—obviously—except that with all that cider and quite a few s'mores, his mouth was sticky and seriously in need of some nice, cool water.  He'd been able to put it off before because he was distracted by the movie (and Velma), but there was no way he could go to sleep that way; it would drive him nuts.  Slowly, he eased himself out from under his sleeping girlfriend, who settled onto the couch and contained slumbering deeply.  Picking up a few plates and napkins in order to help with the clean-up, Ethan moved to the kitchen and there appreciatively downed three glasses of ice water.

            "Do you just want to leave Velma on the couch?" Fred asked him when he was finished.  Ethan pondered this.

            "I guess so," he answered, not sure.  He'd never really been placed in such a position before—making a decision—albeit a very small one—about his girlfriend's welfare.

            " 'Cause if you can carry her, I can show you where her guest room is.  It's upstairs, though."  Fred almost pointed out that _he_ could carry Velma, but it seemed a rude thing to say, so he didn't.

            "Yeah, I can," Ethan replied, though in all honesty he'd never done it before.  He did know, however, that she was light—being after all a fairly small woman.  "Yeah, let's do that," he decided.

            The two men returned to the family room, where Ethan gingerly scooped up Velma and held her, bride-style, cuddled against his chest.  She was so dead to the world that she gave him no help at all, but neither did she wake up when he jostled her around, trying to keep her tucked in close as they headed for the stairs.  Fred led the way, glancing back occasionally to make sure Ethan wasn't having any trouble, but it wasn't necessary.  Even climbing the stairs wasn't difficult for him.  When they reached the appropriate bedroom, Fred helpfully flipped on the lights while Ethan moved forward to settle her lightly on the double bed.  To his surprise, the comforter was patterned with purple roses, and the walls of the room were lavender—hardly the style that masculine bachelor Fred would go for.

            "This is Daphne's room—I mean, for when she stays over," he explained, catching Ethan's expression as he looked about.

            "I could guess," Ethan returned, noting the color scheme—as well as the implied meaning behind Fred's statement.  It might have surprised him that Fred and Daphne didn't share a room, were it not the same with he and Velma—and they'd had plenty of opportunities.  In fact, Fred had very tactfully asked him about sleeping arrangements when he'd invited him to the party—probably it was easier to ask him—another guy—rather than his closer friend Velma.  As a result, Daphne would later be taking up the other half of this bed, while he would have a nice, comfy air mattress in the office.

            "It's kinda cold in here," Fred observed.  "I'm gonna go hike up the thermostat a little, and get the air bed ready."

            "Okay," Ethan answered, turning his eyes away from his sleeping girlfriend for a moment to watch Fred leave.  Sitting carefully down beside her, he reached out and ever-so-gently removed her glasses.  Despite his care, and the fact that she hadn't so much as twitched an eyelid during the entire time he'd carried her upstairs, he saw her face tighten in reaction, and her fingers clenched suddenly.  Quickly he placed the precious spectacles on the nightstand, amazed that even in her sleep losing her glasses frightened her.  Her hand patted automatically over the pillow until he laid one of his own over it, calming her.  When she was still and quiet again, he used the same hand to smooth her hair back from her face.  She looked different when she was asleep—and without her glasses.  Not younger, not any more or less attractive, just—more at peace.  Her face didn't hold any of the tension that it often did during the day, even when she was at her most relaxed.

            Watching her, Ethan remembered what he had been talking to Fred about earlier—about asking Velma to marry him.  Oh, he wanted to—he wanted to so much.  And yet, he wouldn't be, not anytime soon, but not for the "usual reasons."  It wasn't that they were too young, for they were no younger than plenty of other people who got married, including his parents and his older brother.  It wasn't that he was afraid of commitment or didn't want to limit himself to one woman.  He couldn't imagine wanting anyone else besides her.  It was just that their lives were too complicated right now, what with her on mysteries and especially with his music career just taking off.  His first album was to begin recording after the first of the year, which in itself might not have been too big of a distraction for them, but that was to followed by a tour, opening for a popular rock band.  Beginning a marriage was complicated enough without throwing a three-month tour into the mix, and Ethan knew he would have to wait until he at least had an idea where his career might go.  Still, some days it was just so hard to wait, ad tomorrow was going to be one of them.

            Ethan turned as he heard Fred re-enter the room.  "I got the mattress ready," Fred informed him, quietly, though there was no need for such caution.  Daphne was right—a cannon could have gone off in the room, and Velma would have kept right on sleeping.

            "Great," Ethan said, rising from the bed.  "It's in the office, right?"

            "Nah, I had to put it in the den.  I thought it would fit in the office, but its a little too big."

            "No problem, I'll just move my stuff."

            "Ethan, you sure you don't want the master bedroom?  Trust me, I don't mind taking the air bed."  The two men had had this discussion earlier.

            "I'm sure."   As if to back up his answer, he rose from the bed and started towards the door.  "Don't worry about it."

            "Thanks, Eth," Fred answered as his friend left the room.  A moment later he did the same, hoping as he made his way down the hall that he'd meet Daphne on the way.  She didn't appear, and he finally entered his own room and eventually his bed.  Sleep was a long time coming, for he knew that this Christmas was going to be an even bigger day, even more special, than usual...  

  


* * *

* Game note:  I am pretty sure that, in the actual game, the money is collected from the bank and not the other players, but let's just call it a variation.


	4. Chapter 4

The digital clock in Daphne's guest room had barely clicked over to 6 a.m. when Velma awoke on Christmas morning, blinking into the first streaks of early morning sun that came in through the room's windows.  She patted around for her glasses, and having found them on the nightstand, settled them sleepily onto her nose.  Her eyesight restored,  she took in the clock's display and sat up with a burst of sudden energy.  She loved Christmas, and even though she knew she was an adult and perhaps should have grown out of it, she still felt the same thrill of excitement that she always had when she was a child.  As a little girl, she'd barely been able to sleep on Christmas Eve.

            Obviously, that hadn't been a problem this year, she soon realized, looking around the room that she hadn't remembered coming to the night before.  Someone must have carried her up there and tucked her into bed, and she smiled to herself with the thought that that someone had almost undoubtedly been Ethan.  Beside her, Daphne slept quietly, her back turned, and so Velma took the utmost care not to wake her as she slid from the covers and headed for the door.

            The downstairs of the house was as quiet as her room had been, and Velma quickly surmised that she was the first one awake.  Padding into the den, she immediately noticed that someone had been playing Santa during the night.  The amount of presents underneath the twinkling Christmas tree had about doubled, and there was a stocking for each person hanging, very full, from the mantle.  On each, the appropriate name was written out in gold glitter, and Velma recognized the swooping, almost flowery cursive as Daphne's.  It was not the tree, nor the stockings, nor the brightly wrapped packages that held her attention, however.  In the center of the room Ethan lay asleep on a large air mattress, covered to the waist in several blankets.  He was stretched out comfortably, one arm up over his head, totally open to the world.  

            Velma crept over to him, sitting carefully on the edge of the mattress so that it wouldn't depress too much and wake him.  He was beautiful to look at.  She knew that you weren't supposed to call a man beautiful—men were handsome—and of course Ethan was.  But his shape, his form, the way he was put together—those things were beautiful.  She smiled at his sleeping face, then ran her fingers across his hand and satin-clad arm, so lightly that she was barely touching him.

Of course he woke up.  "Hey," he said, his voice still gliding smoothly over the word even though he couldn't have been more than half-awake.  Velma looked immediately to his face, her hand dropping, just in time to see a soft half-smile form on his lips.  "Merry Christmas," he continued, pulling himself up to more or less sitting position.

            "You too."  She'd been all set to be embarrassed, but Ethan's approving smile stopped her.

            "Do you want...?"  he asked, pulling the corners of his blankets back and gesturing to them with a slight tip of his head.

            "Sure," Velma replied, easing herself onto the mattress and under the covers.  Ethan slid back down again, letting her nestle comfortably against his chest.  For awhile they just lay there, Velma with her eyes closed in contentment, Ethan watching the lights blink on the tree, his fingertips all the while running up and down her back and arm almost absently.  They had reached the point in their relationship where they could simply enjoy being quiet and content together, and the silence wasn't uncomfortable.  However, few minutes had passed before Velma decided to break it.  

            "Fred's going to propose to Daphne, isn't he?" she asked against his chest, the morning-softness in her voice making the inquiry sound almost casual.  She sounded as if she were asking an incredibly basic question, one of the everyday variety to which people already know the answers before they ask.

            "What?" Ethan replied on impulse, surprised that she knew.  Fred had told he and Shaggy that between them, his parents, and Daph's parents, no one else had been let in on it—especially Velma.  Though she was dependable to the utmost degree, Fred feared that Daphne would immediately be able to read the information from her best friend.

            "Oh, come on, its pretty obvious," Velma said, moving back to prop herself up on one elbow.  "I do have _some_ feminine instincts, you know."

            "Believe me, I do," Ethan responded to her joke, smiling at her in a way that nearly made her blush.  "Nah, it's just that Fred was trying to keep it a secret.  I only know because Shag and me were with him when he got the ring..." Ethan let the sentence fade off as realization came to him.  "Hey, wait-- how did you know I knew?"  Velma grinned at him in reply.  "You just set me up, didn't you!?"

            "Precisely."

            Ethan laughed, dropping his head down to his pillow.  "Oh well, I'm taking it you had a pretty good idea anyway.  That girl-radar thing."

            Velma looked highly amused by this observation.  "Something like that."

            "Does Daphne know?"  It almost seemed a silly question, but Ethan asked it anyway.  Surely, if Velma had figured it out, Daphne would have as well.

            "She has her suspicions.  Fred's been acting so strange lately that she's pretty sure it'll be soon."

            "She's right—he's planning on today."  He didn't bother to tell Velma to keep it a secret.  She would already know that, and he trusted her.

            "Today?  Jinkies," Velma breathed, almost to herself.  She'd anticipated the event but having an actual time put on it—and a time so soon to occur—brought the realization to a new level.  Her two best friends from childhood were going to be married—it was a lot to take in.  Slowly Velma shifted in her place next to Ethan, turning so that she could rest her head against his chest again.  Immediately she felt his hand move around, lightly, automatically running up and down her back in long strokes.  She snuggled in closer.

            Then, as suddenly as his touch had begun, it stopped, and Velma felt an odd tightening in Ethan's breath—lying as she was, she could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.  "Velma," he began, his voice deeper and soft, "would you want to marry me?"

            It was difficult to tell who was more surprised by the totally unplanned question.  Under his hand, Ethan felt Velma's muscles tighten in reaction, then shift as she propped herself up, looking into his face.  He hadn't meant to word the question quite that way—he'd planned on asking if she'd ever thought about them being married—and the simple change of words had made all the difference in the world.  Even so—he knew that he didn't want to take them back.

            Velma stared at him for a heartbeat, trying to sift his meaning.  Were it not for his incredibly intense look, the way that he held his breath, she would have thought he was just asking a conversational question.  They had talked about marriage before, in futuristic terms.  But now it almost seemed as if he were... could he really be...?

            "Are you asking?" she finally questioned through her pinched throat, the words an almost throaty rush.

            Ethan stared back at her, noticing how almost overwhelmingly vulnerable she looked as her question tumbled out.  He'd never seen her like that—vulnerability not being one of Velma's usual traits.  Maybe once, the first time he'd kissed her.  But not like this.  It was an awful position to have put her in, and Ethan knew it.  There was nothing to do but be honest with her.

            "Yes," he answered her with certainty, the word releasing all the tension he'd been carrying, all the longing.  He'd wanted to ask her for months, and finally doing it gave him such an intense feeling of release that it didn't occur to him at first that she hadn't even answered him yet.  Reaching out, he stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, trying to keep himself grounded in the moment.  It was starting to take on a surreal feeling...  All at once, the earlier conflicts came back to him.

            "No," he corrected himself, his voice scraping with disappointment as he turned away and flopped onto his back.  His eyes on the ceiling, he didn't see the hurt flash into Velma's eyes, all her features reacting as if she'd been slapped.  "I can't," he sighed heavily.  "It's not fair—it's not fair to you."

            "What?" Velma asked, causing him to turn to her again.

            "I've been wanting to ask you for months," he explained, surprising Velma.  She'd had no idea.  "Ever since we started talking about it... but... I mean, we're both so busy right now and life's crazy... especially with the tour.  We couldn't get married until after that, and only if something else didn't come up.  I don't know what's gonna happen, and I prob'ly won't have a lotta say in it."

            "That's true," Velma agreed.

            "It just doesn't seem right for me to ask you and then not even be able to figure out when it might be— and prob'ly it'll be a long time before I _do_ know.  But it's not that... that I don't want to be married to you," Ethan assured her, his voice sounding strained with emotion.  "It's not even that I don't want us to be engaged... 'cause I do.  That's why I just asked you... 'cause I just couldn't hold it in anymore."

            Velma tried hard to think through her whirl of emotions, through the pounding of her heartbeat loud in her ears.  She hadn't even the slightest idea that Ethan felt that way— though he had been enthusiastic about the idea of marriage when they talked about it, his actual proposal hadn't seemed eminent.  As he said, their lives were so complicated.  This wasn't to say that she hadn't thought about marrying Ethan; she thought about it a great deal, and she couldn't picture marrying any man _but_ him.  Though he was the only boyfriend she'd ever had, she knew he was the only man she wanted—for she really was a one-man woman in the very literal sense.  Velma had a great capacity for loving others, but when it came to truly opening up, her love was also selective—she couldn't imagine ever sharing herself so much with anyone else as she had with him, nor could she imagine their relationship ending.

            "Ethan,"  she said after what seemed, to him, an endless moment.

            "Yeah?" he replied, still reeling.  He couldn't believe he'd loosed those words—the ones he'd meant to hold back until a better time.  Their relationship would never be the same now.

            "You're right about all that."  Ethan gave her the slightest nod in reply, looking terribly somber.  Evidently she agreed with him... but to him it didn't feel like a relief.  It felt like a disappointment.  "It's just that you forgot one thing."

            "Yeah?"

            "My answer."  Ethan's eyes bolted to hers, making contact instantly.  "I'll give it to you..."  Velma trailed off for a moment, looking down.  She knew that with her next words, she'd be laying her heart out in front of him, but she had to go ahead.  "Unless you're... really taking back your proposal."  Despite his very sensible, very mature reasons for not being able to carry through with it, Velma sensed that he'd forget all about them if he could.  He'd said it wouldn't be fair to _her_—if she was right, his reasons, good as they were, had little to do with his own feelings.  And if she was wrong... well, she'd soon find out.

            Ethan swallowed hard, unable to speak as he tried to take in her totally unexpected words.  Surely she wouldn't say something like that-- something that would only set him up to be crushed-- if she were going to say no.  Velma wasn't like that; she didn't play those kinds of games.  That meant she must be going to say... yes.  _Yes!  _It meant that she didn't care about the indefinite engagement, about not knowing when they could be married, or when a tour might separate them during the planning.  Well, she'd _care_, of course— but she didn't mind working through it.  There was nothing to hold him back now.  Getting up off the mattress, he took Velma's hand and helped her to do the same, as gallantly as he knew how.  Slowly he got down on one knee in front of her, still holding her hand as if it were glass.  She had put her heart on the line already, and now he took his turn.

            "I'm not taking it back.  I just—just wanted to do it the right way and everything."  He paused, looking up into her eyes as best he could.  They were filling, and she looked breathless, staring right back down at him.  "I love you so much, Velma.  Will you marry me?"   

            "Jinkies, Ethan," she replied, "how could this not be right?"  He smiled at her, but his entire countenance was one of almost enraptured anticipation.  "Yes-- I would love to marry you."    

"Yes?!"  Ethan stammered, his mind straining to get itself around the situation even as he strained to take a breath. 

            "It might not be sensible to get engaged now-- but who says we have to be sensible?"  She gave him one of her curved, wry smiles, though her expression was soft.  It was an old joke between them, and Ethan let out a breathy, almost relieved laugh as she joined him, sinking down to sit on the mattress again. He pulled her into his arms, laughing gently against her hair.  In a moment he drew back again, but his hands didn't leave her, reaching up to hold her face and touch it.  All his doubts were gone.  In spite of all the barriers, she'd said _yes._  

            The two of them were sharing a serious engagement-sealing kiss when Velma had her inspiration.  "I have a plan," she stated after the long interlude.  

            "Hmm?" he questioned, heavily distracted by the warm kiss.

            "Maybe we could get married next December."

            That got Ethan's attention right away.  He drew back and simply looked at her, eyes questioning.

            "Your tour is September to November... mid-November, right?"  Ethan nodded, trying to focus his mind.  "We could be married in the first part of December—then we'd  have time for our honeymoon before anything else came up, because of the holidays."

"Yeah, and I wouldn't be doing very much during the first part of the year, either—not tour-wise, anyway," Ethan put in enthusiastically, his mind diverted from kissing—momentarily.  "And I wouldn't be making an album, just writing new stuff.  We know we'd have at least four, five months."  His brow creased.  "But after that I've got no idea—I'd might have another tour right after, or a bunch of publicity stuff.  That's not very long, and I don't want you to feel like I'm-- _running off_ when we just got married."  Willing as he was to speed up the marriage, he didn't know how Velma would feel about him possibly having to go off five months into it.  Of course he'd love to have her with him, but she had her job, too—more than one job, in fact.  She still did a little bit of independent work for NASA on the side.    

"I wouldn't think of it that way," Velma told him.  "It isn't ideal, but that's just how your career is going to be for awhile.  We _could _wait until you get more control over your schedule, but we might be waiting for... jinkies, I don't even know how long."

"Yeah, that's the music business.  I guess the shortest might be... two years, something like that.  I just have no idea right now.  I mean, I might decide I don't like performing and just write, or I might get really famous and then I'd have a lot more say in what I wanted to do.  Or maybe nothing'll happen."

"Now that's not true."

"But whatever it is, Vel..." Ethan said, his voice and countenance growing deeply serious, "you know I'd give it all up for you.  You mean way more to me than any of that."

Velma had to look away for a second; it was almost too much to hear.  Her eyes filled for the second time that morning.  "I'd never ask you to do that," she managed to get out.  Ethan's career was his dream; his music was a part of him.  He wouldn't even be himself without it.  Yet he'd give his dream away for her. 

"I know," he replied.

"What I wanted to say was..." Velma tried to reign her thoughts back into some kind of order.  "Was that I don't want to wait that long to get married... not two years or however long it takes until our lives settle down.  It probably isn't the smartest attitude to have, but it's the truth."

            Ethan had thought of all this, and he certainly agreed, but he hadn't talked with Velma about it.  If he'd known she felt the same way, he would have been asking for her hand in marriage a good two months ago.  "I don't want to wait that long, either," he said, quietly, then smiled, hoping to lighten things up.  "Wanna elope?"

            His joke worked.  "Jinkies, now who's impulsive?" she giggled, loosing a last stray tear from her eyes.  Reaching under the rim of her glasses, she wiped it away.

            "Well, you know I'm usually the sensible one in this relationship."

            "Oh, always.  You're a real stabilizing force."

            They shared a laugh.  "December?"  Ethan confirmed when they had paused.  She nodded, smiling.  "And that'll be okay with your caseload?" he added, not wanting to leave her career out of the planning.  It was just as important as his, though it was more flexible.  Unlike they had in earlier years, Mystery Inc. rarely drove around looking for or stumbling upon mysteries.  These days they were hired, flown to the location if needed, and usually finished in a matter of days.  Their caseload was considerably heavier, making this a necessity, though they did occasionally drive around in the good ol' Mystery Machine for sake of nostalgia.  The fact that they got paid—well—for their work was also a definite plus.  

            "It's hard to say.  I would think so, and we can always adjust.  We'll have to anyway with Fred and Daph getting married, and I know they want to start a family fairly soon.  You should hear them talk about it," she smiled.

            "At least you'll all be here.  Makes things easier."  That was one thing Velma and Ethan had already decided on in their previous marriage talk—they both wanted to stay in Coolsville.  With Velma this was obvious, but Ethan had developed a fondness for the town during his visits there.  A house would be cheaper there, too, when they wanted to buy one.  The best thing about it was that the record company that had signed Ethan had a branch in Cleveland, which was not so far away that he couldn't commute there for business matters when they came up.  Of course, some of his work would have to be done in New York, where the company would provide an apartment.  Ethan decided to bring this up.  "And when I have to go to New York, we can live in the apartment.  I don't think it'd be too often."

            "Sounds good to me.  The clients can always fly me out separately if a mystery comes up.  They did that with Shaggy when he was in California visiting Mary Jane last summer.  But your recording sessions are still set for Cleveland?"

            "Oh, yeah."

            "Good—I wouldn't want you to escape for too long while we're trying to plan the wedding."  Velma gave him a teasing look, and he played along, grimacing.  According to Daphne, men in general weren't particularly keen on wedding planning.

            Ethan grinned back at her, only to have it overtaken by new thoughts.  "I guess I am gonna be kinda running off for that," he realized.  "For all the recording I'll be in Cleveland, and then I'll have all kinds of rehearsals, then the tour..."  Ethan trailed off, concerned.  Granted, he didn't really know how much help he could be in planning a wedding, and would just as soon leave most of the details to Vel, but it didn't seem quite right for him to not be there at all.

            "I wouldn't want anything too elaborate, would you?" Velma pondered, knowing the answer.  

            "Nah," he answered, predictably.

            "It probably wouldn't be too hard to plan if we kept it low-key."

            Ethan pondered a moment.  "I'd kinda like to have a night wedding," he offered.  It made sense—Ethan was much more a night person, and that kind of a ceremony would fit his personality.

            "A winter night wedding.  I'd like that, too.  Very elegant."  

            "Yeah.  And I get to plan the honeymoon, right?"  Ethan grinned at her.  Considering the fact that they were waiting for marriage for their honeymoon-related activities, he'd given that special vacation a good deal of thought already.  "I mean, I'm the groom."

            "I think we've ascertained that," Velma deadpanned.  "And I think what that means is that you get to _pay_ for the honeymoon."

            "Darn.  Can I pick the band for the reception?"

            "Of course."

            "Alright—heavy metal!"

            "You're romance itself."

            "Always."  He smiled at her, and their conversation lulled as they were once again drawn to one another, coming together in a kiss.  Both were happy to let planning leave their minds for the moment, though there was one issue still lingering in Ethan's.            

"I just remembered," he told her softly in between kisses, "I've gotta talk to your parents tonight.  I hope they don't mind that I did this a little backward."  

            "What about that long talk my dad had with you a few months ago?" Velma reminded him dryly, diverting his next kiss to her cheek.  "I figured he was giving you the old twenty questions."

            Ethan laughed.  "He was."  Harold had indeed had the age-old 'are your intentions honorable' talk with him, even though he knew that they were.  The two men actually got along very well, once Ethan got over being intimidated by him.  "Do you think that counts?"

            "Close enough."

            "And I'll go get you your ring tomorrow, after we're done visiting my parents.  The store where Fred got Daphne's ring had a lot of nice ones."  Ethan paused.  "I shoulda just bought one for you then."

            "That's okay."  She honestly didn't care that he'd proposed without one.  Being told that he loved her enough to want to spend the rest of his life with her—that was special no matter how it happened.  "The only thing is, I think we better wait on telling the gang."

            "Why?"  Ethan, at that moment, wanted to tell the whole world.

            "I just mean for this morning.  It wouldn't be right to show up Fred like that."

            "Oh, man you're right," Ethan agreed.  It would be pretty inconsiderate to announce their surprise engagement right before Fred was to do his carefully planned proposal.  "I guess the news can wait—for a little while."  Surely, Ethan thought, if he had held off his proposal for months, he could hold in the news for a morning.  Maybe.  It was almost too much for him to take in, for either of them to take in.  They weren't just boyfriend and girlfriend anymore, no matter the fact that they were, in that state, as devoted and faithful as any two engaged people.  They were going to be married—not sometime, but in a year.  It wasn't so long, not with lives so busy as theirs.  _Married._  A man and woman couldn't have a bond stronger than that.

            Velma reached out and touched Ethan's face, surprising him, for she didn't do it often.  The first round of necessary planning finally leaving her mind, she was left with a feeling bordering on awe, and the look on his face as he received her touch told her that he felt the same.  This man loved her.  He was going to be her husband, her partner.  They were going to have a life together.  Leaning the short distance in, she gave him a kiss of her own, then another.  

            The day had barely begun, but it was already the best Christmas of their lives.

              
  
More coming...


	5. Chapter 5

It was nearly two hours before anyone else from the gang awoke and ventured downstairs.  Fred woke to the sound of his alarm clock and then quietly crossed the hall to wake Daphne—the two of them needed to get an early start on Christmas dinner.  Entering the den, they were surprised to find it empty and the air bed unoccupied.  Both Ethan and Velma, though reluctant to leave each other, had finally dragged themselves off to take showers before the morning rush on the bathrooms started.  Freddy and Daph were in the midst of preparing a turkey and ham for the oven when the other young couple arrived in the kitchen with offers of help.     

It only took the always-intuitive Daphne about a minute to figure out that something had changed between Ethan and Velma, but other than a teasing comment about their chipper attitudes, she kept her observations silent.  Though the signals might have been lost on a less romantically-tuned person (and were certainly lost on Fred, who had been in a strange kind of daze ever since he'd come to wake her up) to Daphne they were completely obvious:  the private little smiles that flashed between them, the way they couldn't seem to stand close enough to one another, the overlong glances...  She didn't know exactly what was going on, but she had an idea that it was far more than the fact that they'd cheated and opened a few presents from one another early.  Ethan was giving off the wonderful scent of Cool Water, and Velma had obviously just used some kind of sweet-smelling orange-and-vanilla bath product. 

The rest of the group trickled downstairs as the work in the kitchen progressed, and by the time the turkey had been placed in the oven and the ham covered in glaze and cloves, everyone had arrived.  Shaggy, usually a late riser, looked the sleepiest of the lot, but he soon perked up when everyone found places around the room and prepared to tie into the stockings and presents.  Freddy lifted down each stocking and handed them out before lighting a fresh fire in the fireplace, and in no time a cheery blaze was up and going.  Ethan had deflated the air mattress and most of the gang sat on the floor, wrapped up in their blankets from the night before.  Everyone still wore pajamas, even Ethan and Velma, who'd had the opportunity to dress post-shower.  It just seemed more festive that way.  

            Scooby was undoubtedly the most excited of the group and leapt up, dancing on his hind legs and clapping as Freddy placed his stocking in front of him.  It was bulging with treats, which were quickly revealed to be Scooby Snacks of various flavors.  The dog just about went wild, gobbling down the crunchy biscuits before Daphne even had time to snap a picture with her digital camera.  Scooby sighed, his tail thumping against the carpet contentedly.

            Everyone else's stockings consisted mainly of favorite candies and chocolates, though there were some small gifts as well—mostly of the "gag" variety.  The entire group laughed as Shaggy found a package of razors in his stocking, and continued as Velma uncovered the infamous glasses strap.  There were a few practical things as well, such as some guitar picks for Shag and Ethan, but perhaps the best stocking-stuffers were down at the toe of each.  Everyone (human, anyway) discovered a packaged sprig of mistletoe, and wasted no time in putting them to use.  Scooby might have uttered a "roh rother" or flopped one of his big paws over his eyes had he not been trying to sniff out more Snacks under the tree.  His search was successful, and in no time at all he lit into a second box, having unwrapped it in seconds.

            Taking a cue from their dog, the rest of the group settled into opening their gifts—and a ton of gifts there were.  The packages spilled out from under the tree in a huge mound that spread out over the surrounding floor.  The sounds of tearing and rustling paper were overridden by those of happy conversation as the gang enjoyed one another's company and thanked one another for their presents.  

Not too surprisingly, one of Velma's first presents was a book.  "What's this?" she inquired curiously, turning it over in her hands and looking at the cover.  The glossy cover was a deep red, with the title spelled out in gold-embossed, large cursive.

            "I think it's called a book, Velma," Fred couldn't resist commenting, bringing an eye-roll from the book's new owner.

            "Oh, it's really good," Daphne assured her, then paused, smiling.  "Especially round about page 130."

            Intrigued by the promise of new reading material, Velma immediately flipped to the recommended page and began skimming it rapidly.  Midway through, she stopped abruptly, then looked up to see that every one of her friends was watching her with an expectant expression.  Off her look, they all burst out laughing.

            "Jinkies, Daph, this is a romance novel!" Velma announced needlessly to the room, blushing as red as her flannel pajamas.

            "Velma—it's called The Princess and the Pirate! What on earth did you _think_ it was?" Daph giggled in reply.

            "I don't know..." Velma began awkwardly.  "A historical fiction?"  This caused even more laughter, and she hurriedly closed the book and looked once again at the cover.  It was plain; it certainly didn't look like any romance novel she'd ever seen.  After studying it a second more, she noticed a strip of border behind the cover, indicating a second, inside cover.  Opening to it, she found herself faced with a stereotypical romance novel picture—a brawny, muscular pirate, his white shirt blowing in the wind, was holding onto a long-haired brunette woman, who was dangling limply over one of his arms.  The only thing exceptional about it was that the pirate looked incredibly like someone of her close acquaintance...

            "Take a look at the guy," Daphne prompted her.  "Doesn't that look like someone you know?"  The cue was unnecessary, for her friend had already commenced smiling at the picture.  There was no doubt about it—the goateed pirate looked incredibly like Ethan, albeit with longer hair.  He'd been leaning over her already, trying to snatch a few sentences from the now-notorious page 130, without much success.

            "Is there something you want to tell me?"  she asked him with the driest tone she could muster.

            He shrugged good-naturedly.  "I never told you about my stint as a pirate?  Oh, yeah—I was big."  Velma rolled her eyes again in reply.

            "Thank you, Daphne," she told her friend, meaning it.  

            "You're welcome," was Daph's cheery reply.

            "Yes, thank you," echoed Ethan, winking.  Velma hit him.

            "Hey!"

            "Why don't you open a few of your presents, Daph," Velma changed the subject.  Daphne had been so busy playing the good hostess alongside Fred that she'd only opened a few.

            "Okay.  Where's one from you?"  Velma crawled a few paces over to the tree and fished out an appropriate box, then found another two.  Ethan took advantage of her temporary absence to do some quick reading while Fred helped Velma find more presents under the tree for his girlfriend.  

            "Jeepers—you didn't have to do all this, guys," Daphne commented on seeing the huge-and-growing pile they were making in front of her.  "But I love it!"  Each person had brought several presents for everyone, though most of Daphne's gifts bore a label with Fred's name.  As planned, she opened a present from Velma first, carefully slitting the wrapping paper on the small box with a fingernail.

              "Ooo, a flashlight—thanks, Velma!  Freddy's always hogging ours," she half-teased, looking the new instrument over.  "But what's this big red button on the side?"

            "It's a panic alarm," Velma explained.  "Push that and a siren goes off that you can hear in three counties.  You know—just in case you get captured."  Velma struggled to keep her expression serious, and it worked, for Daphne looked up, eyes wide.  "I'm kidding!"

            "Oh!" Daphne exclaimed, starting to laugh along with the others in the room.  Her formerly frequent captures were a running joke among the members of Mystery, Inc.  Even funnier, many of the "ghosts" in their cases still tried to come after the delicate-looking girl, only to get an unpleasant surprise in the form of some serious martial arts moves.

            "Your real presents are in the other boxes," Velma went on, nodding to the pile of gifts.  Daphne opened a second package and drew out a beautiful lavender skirt-and-jacket business suit.

            "This is perfect!" the redhead squealed.  "Did you pick this out yourself?"

            Velma could have come back with a sarcastic remark at that, but chose to let it go, simply nodding in reply.

            Mary Jane was also happy with an abundance of new outfits that she'd received—mostly bell-bottoms, peasant blouses, and cut-off tops—though practical Velma had given her a much-needed pink, quilted winter jacket and Daphne had chipped in some stylish fringed leather boots.  She was watching the happy proceedings when she felt Shaggy slip a smallish box into her hand.  When she turned to face him, his always-sweet face looked almost shy.

            "Another one?  You're spoiling me, Shaggy," she smiled.  He'd already given her some clothes, a hammock, and an adorable plush dolphin—she loved stuffed animals.  Smiling beguilingly all the while, she opened the new package, then looked down to discover that the box held some beaded jewelry—jewelry that looked expertly and creatively home-made.  The pieces were so well made, in fact, that, had she not known Shaggy was skilled with crafts, she would have thought they were professionally done.

            "Did you make these yourself?" she asked him, touched that he would spend so much time and take so much care with a gift for her.

            "Like, yeah," he answered quietly, and there was no mistake about it—he sounded shy.  "Are they okay?"  He'd spent some long hours deciding what to make and then crafting the pieces, and he was so anxious to know if she'd like them.  He loved giving homemade gifts as they were much more personal, but because of that very fact he sometimes felt anxious when his presents were opened—there was so much of himself invested.  Not that Mary Jane would ever express open displeasure with something he'd made for her, for the sweet-natured girl didn't have a hurtful bone in her body.  

            "Oh, Shaggy these are _beautiful_!" she enthused, leaning forward and giving him a radiant smile for emphasis, followed by a kiss on the cheek.  "I love them!"  Proving her point, she drew from the box the two woven bracelets—one of beads and leather, the other of hemp—and slid them onto her wrists, then lifted up the intricately-beaded hair ornament to admire it.  It was meant to be woven into a braid or twist, and she immediately planned on doing just that when she got ready later.  "Thank you."

            "You're welcome," Shaggy answered, happy as a clam.  He'd been almost sure that Mary Jane would appreciate a home-made gift, and it was so nice to have it confirmed—and to see her so happy.  He knew there were some girls that wouldn't want any kind of jewelry except the kind that came from an expensive store, and he loved knowing that his girlfriend wasn't like that, preferring a gift that came from the heart instead.  She was, just like him, totally non-materialistic, and that was one of the reasons he was so crazy about her.

            "Here, open one from me," she guided him, handing him a thin, square package.  Shaggy didn't need any more prompting and eagerly tore into it.  Non-materialistic or no, he loved presents—giving and receiving.  

            "Zoinks!" he exclaimed happily, discovering three records under the wrapping paper.  "I've been looking for these forever!"

            "You know that record shop we went to on the beach?"  Mary Jane reminded him.  "I found them there."  She didn't mention the fact that she'd had them special-ordered; the records were fairly obscure and hard-to-find, even through the internet.

            "Thanks!!  Hey, look Scoob!"  Shaggy called to his friend, waving the records in the air.  Scooby, who was gorging himself on a another box of Scooby Snacks that he'd just received from Daphne, looked up, tail wagging.  Fred took advantage of his temporary food diversion to give him his own gift.  The way Scooby was chowing down, it might be his only chance.

            "Here Scoobs," he addressed the dog, placing a large gift bag in front of him.  "Oh, and this one's for you, Shag," he added, coming across another box.  Shaggy worked on his present while Scooby plunged his head into the bag, thinking to come away with another mouthful of some delicious treat.  Instead, he emerged from the bag holding what looked like a calendar in his mouth.  He flipped it face down in front of him, looking at the small sample pictures on the back, finding immediately that it was a Great Dane calendar!

            "Take a look at ummm... 'Miss' November," Fred cued him.  "I thought she looked just like that girl dog you've been eyeing in the park."  Scooby had had a huge crush on a lovely fawn-colored Dane ever since coming back to Coolville.

            "Rank you," Scooby sighed dreamily, opening the calendar and gazing at the picture—which indeed did look remarkably like the dog of his dreams.  Everyone in the room smiled and "awww"-ed at Scooby's slightly goofy, love-stricken expression.

            "Like, and thanks for this, Freddy!"  Shaggy added, having unwrapped a special pizza oven.  "I can hardly wait to try it out.  Like, whatdya think, Scoob?"  The dog didn't reply, for once unmoved by food.  "Zoinks!"  Everyone laughed.

            "Here, Eth, you haven't opened one in awhile," Fred said, coming across a package from him and giving it a light toss in Ethan's direction.  It landed atop a small pile of gifts that he'd already opened—some shirts and CDs from various members of the group.  "Eth...Ethan?"  The young man was totally engrossed in The Princess and the Pirate.  Velma's attention diverted by the goings-on, he'd managed to put away quite a few pages.

            "Ethan!" his fiancé exclaimed, finally noticing.  

            "What?" he asked innocently, looking up at last.  Unable to be stern in the face of Ethan's puppy-dog expression, Velma started giggling.

            "Freddy has a present for you," she informed him, having meant to give him a teasing reprimand.  Not needing any more prompting, Ethan opened up the gift.

            "Cool... thanks Fred!" he said immediately on seeing two different black woven bracelets, each with a different color of large bead in the center.  "I had a bracelet like these but I lost it on Spooky Island.  These are great."

            "You're welcome.  Oh, here's one for you, Velms," Fred continued, handing over a medium-sized box with an almost gleeful smile of anticipation on his face.  Velma regarded his expression with a suspicious one of her own while she opened the box, then looked down into it.  It held an orange shirt, a gift which was relatively to be expected—Shaggy had already given her three orange t-shirts.  After lifting it from the tissue paper and holding it up, however, she saw that it was not the typical shirt at all.  For one thing, it looked very small, and for another, it had an incredibly low cut v-neck.  Velma caught on to Fred's joke immediately, even as he started laughing—the shirt was an exact copy of the one she'd worn on Spooky Island.

            "Very funny, Fred," she said, barely audible over his amusement.

            "Do you get it?" he asked needlessly.

            "Yes, I know—it looks just like the one from Spooky Island."  Velma might have sounded annoyed, but it was evident that she really wasn't.  She could appreciate a good joke, even it was on her.

            "No—no... it _is_ the one from Spooky Island!"  Fred corrected her, eyes twinkling.

            That _did_ surprise Velma.  "But how—I purposely left it behind in the closet!"

            "And I _purposely_ got it out of there before we left!  Come on, Velms, I knew you were going to do that.  I mean, I've known you since you were wearing a diaper.  Since they brought you home from the hospital..." he added, then grimaced.  "Your dad put you in my lap and when I tried to hug you, you spit up right on my ascot."

            "I was trying to tell you something, Fred.  Obviously you didn't get the message."  She looked at him, eyebrow raising, while everyone else joined in the teasing.  Twenty plus years later, Fred still hadn't given up on his favorite, unconventional neckwear.

            "I didn't know you'd gone fashion expert, Velms," Fred joked right back, to which Velma pretended to act cross.  "Your real present is down in the box," he told her, getting his laughter under control.  Velma fished down further into the tissue paper and discovered a new computer program that she'd been wanting.            

            After that, the group commenced finishing up with the dwindling mountain of presents.  Shaggy received some tagless t-shirts in his favorite olive green, v-neck style from Daphne, then opened up a computer program from Vel that could store and print out recipes.  (The gang was not quite so enthusiastic as he was at the prospect of testing out some of his more "inventive" recipes before entering them into the computer.  Try as they might to be good sports, his pineapple chicken with anchovy-and-marshmallow sauce just never sat quite right with their stomachs.)  One very noisy package for Mary Jane turned out to be a beautiful hand-painted tambourine from Shaggy, and, following in the musical theme, Scooby received a set of new drumsticks from Ethan.  The Dane was actually an excellent drummer, though he practiced more often on spare pots and pans then he did on an actual set.

            A good hour later, the mounds of presents had turned into messy piles of wrapping paper and piles of gifts in front of each guest.  Only the largest gifts, held back for last because of wrapping difficulty, remained.  As the others went off to retrieve the hidden presents or check on the turkey in the kitchen, Velma stopped Ethan, who was rising from his seat next to her on the couch.  In her hand was a small silver box, tied with a simple ribbon.

            "I got this for you a month ago," she explained privately as he worked open the loose bow.  "It seems a little more special, now."  Lifting the box lid, Ethan saw, lying on a pad of cotton, an intricately engraved silver-and-onyx man's ring.  He loved rings and often wore a few silver-and-black ones, but this was far beyond the inexpensive ones that he bought at his favorite heavy-metal stores.  This would have come from a jewelry store, and was of the finest quality and workmanship.

            "Wow," was all he could say.  "Velma, this is..."  He looked at the ring for a moment, then slid it onto his left ring finger.  "Here.  It'll be my engagement ring."  Velma smiled softly; she'd hoped, when she remembered about giving it to him that morning, that he'd want to wear it that way.  He was still looking down, twisting it on his finger contemplatively.  "I feel bad, though—if I could get you one today, I would."

            "It's okay," she assured him for the second time that morning.

            "Tomorrow," he promised, then kissed her.  "I do have something else for you.  I better go get it."  The others were starting to re-enter the room, cutting off their private moment as it was.

            "Don't wait," he called to Fred, who was coming into the den just as he jogged out of it.  It was going to take awhile for him to get the present ready.

            Since none of these presents were wrapped, the gift-giving process went rapidly.  Not even able to hide it behind her back as she came into the den, Mary Jane simply handed Shaggy his new leather guitar case, though she did dress it up a bit with a big bow.  He beamed at the thoughtful yet practical offering—his old case was practically falling apart.  Meanwhile, Daphne was surprised by another present from Freddy.  He'd already given her tons of clothes, her favorite perfume, and some jewelry—actually, the feminine equivalent of what she'd given him.  His main gift had been a man's silver bracelet that he was already wearing.  Drawing his hands from behind his back, he presented her with some kind of wooden display rack.

            "They let me use the old woodshop at the high school," he said in explanation.  "It's a display rack for martial arts belts."

            The expression on Daphne's face was something to see—one of incredibly delighted surprise.  Her eyes and mouth opened wide, and then her lips curved out into a smile.

            "Fred, thank you!" she cried, bouncing right into his arms and making it very hard for him to hold onto the gift that had prompted the reaction.  She was thrilled, and showed her enthusiasm by giving her boyfriend an emphatic kiss.  She never brought it up now, but Freddy's comments about her being helpless back before the Spooky Island case had hurt.  Granted, she had to admit that back then he had a point, but that didn't make it any easier to take.  He'd never say such a thing now, and not only because the words were no longer true.  It was because Freddy had changed, and he'd changed into someone she could love and be with—like the guy he'd been back in high school before his ego had taken over.  During those rough years, he would have been threatened by having a girlfriend who could fight off the bad guys or do anything for herself—Velma had occasionally made similar comments after Fred had acted particularly badly and stolen her credit.  Her comments, which were usually pretty vehement and sarcastic and often led to one of her exasperated "men!" speeches, had been to the tune that Fred couldn't handle a capable woman or one with brains; Daphne had attributed it to her theory at that time that Velma liked Fred but didn't want to admit it.  Still, it had been true.  Only falling out of fame had humbled Freddy enough so that we they finally met up again on Spooky Island, she'd seen that he had changed.  That's when she'd given him another chance, even though he was nowhere near where he was now.  But she'd loved him, even when he was in the worst of his behavior, and her instincts had been right.  The gift was a kind of confirmation that he supported and accepted who she was now.  Of course, he still got lots of opportunities to exert his masculine strength and protection— on mysteries he still walked in front, keeping both girls out of harm's way, which even Velma had to admit was sweet.  (She'd tried to feign annoyance during their last case when Fred had had to rescue _her_ two times from the ghost, but anyone could see she secretly was loving it.  Word of Daphne's martial arts prowess had reached the ears of some of the ghouls, who decided to go after Velma instead, particularly during her "sans glasses" moments.)  Daphne had also retained her propensity for falling into trapdoors, martial arts master or no. 

            While Fred was still receiving some thank-you kisses, grinning from ear to ear, Ethan came back into the room, holding Velma's last present—a gleaming, orange bass guitar—behind his back as best he could.  Over the past few months he'd been teaching her how to play the instrument, and even though they didn't have much time together for lessons, she'd worked on her own and progressed quickly.  The only thing was, all he'd had to teach her on was an old bass guitar that he'd bought second-hand.

            Even before Ethan had brought the guitar out and laid it gently in her lap, Velma's mouth dropped open in surprise.  "Oh, Ethan... this is... this is too much," she almost stuttered, while everyone else in the room echoed her surprise with impressed murmurs and exclamations.  She knew very well how much a new guitar cost, especially a top-notch one like this obviously was.  

            "Nah," Ethan shrugged, despite the fact that the guitar had indeed been expensive.  He'd easily been able to afford it what with his signing bonus at the record company, and at any rate, money didn't mean much to him.  "Besides, you've gotta have something better to practice on than my old one."

            "I..." Velma started, still not knowing quite what to say.  "Thank you," she finally said, leaning to kiss Ethan and put her arms around him as best she could with the guitar across her lap.  "Thank you," she repeated in his ear.

            "Why don't you try it?" Ethan asked softly but eagerly when she was finished embracing him.  "It's tuned and everything."

            "Okay," Velma immediately agreed, swinging the guitar into the correct position and giving the strings a few experimental strums before going through some chords.  Her playing was flawless, as was the deep, rich, tone quality of the guitar's sound.  Ethan smiled at both observations.  He'd spent a lot of time in his favorite music store, testing out guitars and picking out just the perfect one for her.  He wanted only the best for his Velma, and it made him happy to know that he could give it to her.

            "She's so talented," he stated for the benefit of the entire room, as Velma started playing the bass part to "House of the Rising Sun."  He'd thought it would be a good song for her to learn on, and he had played the main guitar part while they were having their practice sessions.  She'd made a lot of jokes about the song not being the height of romance, but they still played it well together.  It had been one of his most-requested songs back in school.    

            Shaggy and Scooby were also familiar with the song and began to sing and howl the melody, respectively, while Mary Jane swayed along.  Daphne, sitting a little bit farther back from the group, was watching with a smile on her face.  Freddy was watching too—but he wasn't paying much attention to the song.  In fact, he could barely hear it over the pounding of his heartbeat loud in his ears.  He knew that this was the right time.             "Daphne?"  he asked his girlfriend quietly, coming up to stand at her side.  "Can I talk to you for a second?"              "Sure, Fred," she answered, looking up smilingly into his face.  "What is it?"              Right before her eyes, his entire expression changed.  "I uhhhhh..." he faltered, wishing fervently that he'd thought of some better plan.  "I have another present for you!" he exclaimed a moment later in a burst of inspiration.  "It's... in the other room."             Daphne didn't have the heart to tease him abut his flimsy explanation.  Of course she knew what was going on.  She only smiled again—more softly this time—rose from the loveseat, and let him lead her from the room.        


	6. Chapter 6

This was wrong, all wrong!!

All the way through the living room, Freddy, leading Daphne quietly by the hand, had kept his cool.  He'd been eh picture of forced calm as they took to the stairs, and then as they began to cross the hallway.  But no sooner had they passed the large hallway mirror than his solid, oft-rehearsed proposal plan was completely and totally dashed. Here he was, about to embark on one of the most important moments in his and Daphne's lives—and he was still wearing his pajamas!  Pajamas, of all things—who in the world, he thought frantically, proposed in sleepwear!?  Who that actually expected to be accepted, anyhow.  Granted, Daphne was still wearing her pajamas as well, which alleviated things a bit, but he was still sure this was totally unorthodox nonetheless.  Why hadn't he done this the right way, the proper way?  Daphne deserved the very best, most romantic proposal—at a nice restaurant, perhaps.  Yes, a restaurant—why on earth, he questioned himself in a panic, why hadn't he done that!?  Many men did, probably even most.  Then Fred remembered—he'd wanted it to be a surprise.  Some surprise, he thought despondently, realizing that she'd almost undoubtedly known all along.  Ethan was probably right about that radar thing he had described, and anyway,  it wasn't as if the two of them hadn't discussed marriage before.  Why the surprise?

Only one thing was clear in poor Fred's addled mind—he couldn't turn back now.  Pajamas, unromantic atmosphere or no, he was going to have to go ahead.  Even if he could find some sort of half-sensible excuse for a delay, he wasn't even sure his nerves could stand much more.  He'd been counting the days until he was to propose with anticipation, and even now, the ring he'd chosen, safe in its little velvet box, was practically burning a hole in the back pocket of his pajamas.  At least he'd had the presence of mind to slip it in there when he'd gone to get Daphne's last present; it would have been awful if he'd forgotten it.  Feeling relieved that at least one thing was going according to plan, Freddy led Daphne gently to the window seat at the back wall of the wide hallway.  Looking the place over, he realized that _two_ things were going well.  The most beautiful rays of new morning sunshine were streaming through the wide window, bathing the area in a soft glow.  In spite of himself, he'd managed to work in some romantic atmosphere after all.  There was even going to be an unanticipated musical accompaniment for the big event.  From downstairs, strains of "California Dreamin'" wafted up, and though it wasn't exactly an Italian aria, Freddy figured he could do worse.  The song actually sounded rather good, what with Mary Jane and Shaggy, not Scooby, singing the melody.  It was also not being performed very loudly, and Fred smiled when he realized that his friends were trying not to disrupt his proposal.  They were all rooting for him—and, when he turned to look at her, he saw that Daphne, smiling encouragingly—was too.  His courage bolstered, he helped her to sit down on the window seat cushions—or _arranged_ her, as the books he'd read described it.  Fred never would have admitted it, but he'd been poring over etiquette and romantic advice books for weeks, making sure that he did things in a way that would be right and perfect for his Daphne.  So he'd committed a bit of a faux pas with the pajamas—he could at least do the rest properly.      

            According to everything he knew, _the rest_ meant that he needed to proceed with the kneeling down and the presentation of the ring, but when he looked up at the suitably arranged Daphne, all thoughts of proper order and tradition and planning flew right out of his mind.  She looked so beautiful sitting there in front of him, a warm smile on her face and sunlight glittering off her red hair, that his breath caught in his throat.  Only one word could escape.

"Daphne?" he managed to get out.

"What is it, Freddy?" she replied, a slight hint of prompting in her voice.  He was staring at her with such an intense look that she could feel her heart literally straining.  He looked so nervous, and suddenly so very much younger; she almost wanted to comfort him or assure him.  Did he really think she would say no?  Was he having second thoughts?  Or did this just mean so much to him...  Knowing that she'd found her answer, Daphne felt the heat of tears prickling at the back of her eyes.  _Just go on ahead_, she wanted to urge him.  _I'll say yes.  Just go on ahead.  I love you, too, Fred._

"Daphne, I..."  He started again, sounding just like he had during the earlier years of the gang, when he'd tried to confess his feelings for the first time.  It had taken him so many tries, because he had so much to lose.  From downstairs, a noticeably louder excerpt of "California Dreamin'" came up, Shaggy's voice predominant on the melody.

Stopped in to a church, I passed along the way 

Well, I GOT DOWN ON MY KNEES 

"Shaggy!" came Velma's voice, scolding him in one of the harsher tones she'd used post-Ethan, though she was giggling in spite of herself.

"Like, what?  At least we're not playing what _your_ boyfriend wanted."

"Which was?"

" 'Another One Bites the Dust!' "

"Ethan!"  The whole group cracked up, and Fred and Daphne had to join in.  The break in tension was just the opening that Freddy needed, and without another word he did as the song instructed and got down onto both knees, taking Daphne's hands in his.  She immediately stopped laughing and paid rapt attention as her boyfriend began to speak, his voice sounding more steady and confident by the word.

"Daphne, we both know what it is I want to ask you," he began seriously, "but I've gotta say something else first.  I know we haven't been together very long in the... boyfriend-girlfriend way-- but we've always been best friends, and ever since we were little kids I've known that you were the only girl for me.  The only problem is that sometimes I didn't act like it, but..."

"It's okay," Daphne said when he trailed off.  They'd worked through all of their former problems, though she knew that Fred still felt bad about his part in them from time to time.  She honestly wasn't sure what else she could say, or really if she should say anything at all.  Now that Fred was in the midst of his proposal, their roles seemed to have reversed—Daphne was the one uncertain of what to do.  Sitting there in front of the kneeling Fred, listening to such heartfelt protestations of love, wasn't as easy as it sounded.  It was really a lot to take in, and Daphne couldn't hold back a few tears.  Fred, always the protector, reached up and smoothed them away with his thumb.

"But I know I've learned from those mistakes, and I don't ever want to be away from you again," he continued.  "And I know I can be a good husband for you... if..."  At that point, he reached into his pocket and drew out the little black box, then opened it in front of her to reveal a breathtaking engagement ring.  "If, Daphne Blake, you'll do me the honor of becoming my wife."  Fred had chosen that last phrase out of one of his books, but he was far too preoccupied with waiting for her answer, trying to read her facial expression, to be proud of himself for his perfect delivery.  He waited on baited breath, heart speeding, for the word that would either make him the happiest man in the world or crush him completely.

For Daphne, there was really no question.  She beamed a wonderful smile at him, answering him before she even said a word.  "Oh, Fred, of course I'll marry you!" she burst out, smiling and laughing a little at the same time.  Fred's expression as he took in her words was an incredible thing to see, and he let out a huge sigh, releasing the happiness and relief that had been building up inside him.  He wanted to kiss Daphne more right then than he had ever wanted to, but he held off just long enough to slip his ring carefully onto her finger.  She gave a little gasp as she saw the beautiful platinum band with its huge, sparkling diamond, flanked on either side with smaller, lavender amethysts.  She'd been in such a fog when Fred had actually presented the ring that she hadn't really noticed the details, and now she was touched by how much care he had obviously gone to in order to pick out a ring so perfectly suited to her.  It was that which impressed her so much more than the ring itself, though it was indeed stunning.  Despite her wealthy upbringing and expensive tastes, Daphne would have gladly accepted Fred had he nothing at all to offer for his proposal.  She loved him that much.

It was some time later before the newly-engaged couple resumed talking (Freddy eagerly having claimed a kiss from the very willing Daphne) but when Fred finally did break away and speak, his voice was full of an urgency that he hadn't expected.  He'd thought that when he'd gone ahead and proposed, so much of the anxiousness and anticipation would leave him, and though he did feel as if a huge load had been lifted from his shoulders, the blissful, floating-on-cloud nine sensation that had come with Daphne's acceptance was not quite complete.  There was something else that he simply had to ask her.

"Daph?" he started, only a slight question in his tone.  His voice was throaty with emotion, and he smoothed her hair back from her face again and again.  "There's something else... I know you prob'ly want a big wedding and that's great, but I was wondering if we could get married really soon."

"How soon?"  Daphne questioned slowly.  "You don't mean running-off-to-Vegas soon, do you?"  Fred was right—she _did_ want a big wedding—maybe not so much big as wonderful and romantic and fairy-tale.  Like many women, she'd been dreaming about and even planning the event since girlhood-- she and Velma used to look at bridal magazines and cut out the dresses, rings, and cakes that they liked.  (Daphne was more enthusiastic about this than her friend, who often had to be persuaded at length despite her usually-hidden sentimental side.)  Of course, actually marrying Fred was far more important than the ceremony itself, and Daphne knew that one could actually have a very nice wedding in Vegas these days, but still... an elopement really wasn't her.

"Nah, nothing like that," Fred answered quickly.  He knew that wouldn't go over well with Daph, and he didn't think he'd really care for it either, anxious as he was for them to be man and wife.  "I was thinking maybe spring—early spring?"

            "Of _next _year?"  she queried in surprise, letting out a breath.

            "Yeah."

                 "Jeepers, that's awfully fast for a wedding, Fred."

            "It is?  What if we got a coordinator?  I can pay for it." He really had no idea how long a wedding took to plan, not having given the matter much thought.  Three or four months seemed a very long time to him, even for a large, fancy wedding.  A new and sobering thought came to him then—what if Daphne's reasons for waiting had to do with something else entirely? It was a possibility, and even though he didn't want to, he knew he had to address it. "But... if you want more time or something I understand," he finished slowly.

            His fiancée caught the gist of his statement immediately.  "No, it's not that at all," she assured him, causing a relieved look to cross his face, then an almost rueful half-smile.

            "I'm sorry," he said after a moment.  "I'm not being fair, and you should get whatever kind of wedding you want.  And I want a nice wedding, too; I just didn't know it took that long.  I guess it's just that... just that now that I _know_ we're getting married—definitely—it's going to be hard to wait.  I mean, we've known each other for such a long time, and..." Fred let his thought linger, trying hard at the difficult task of putting his feelings into words of explanation.  "I always thought we would get married, even when we were little kids," he finished finally.

            Daphne understood him perfectly.  She had to admit that she hadn't quite known that truth as long as he had—there were times when, as a boy, he'd annoyed the heck out of her.  There were even times not very long ago-- about three years, to be specific—when he'd had the same effect.  She hadn't known, like he had, that they would work out—but she'd hoped.

            "You were supposed to think I had cooties back then," she teased him, hoping to lighten things.

            "Oh, I thought other girls did," Fred went along, wrapping her in his arms and kissing her playfully on the nose.  "Just not you."  He paused a moment for a second kiss, a longer one on the lips this time.  "And maybe Velms," he added as an afterthought, before leaning in yet again.

            "She's going to hate wearing purple in our wedding," Daphne giggled a moment later, reminding them both of the matter at hand.  She thought for a moment, then continued in a pondering tone.  "You know, Fred... what you said about hiring a coordinator?"

            "Yeah?"

            "_One _coordinator might have a hard time putting together an elaborate wedding so fast... but we could hire more than one."  Fred looked at her immediately with interest, waiting to hear more.  "Daddy won't mind—he always promised that I would have however big a wedding I wanted."  She paused a moment.  "May?"

            "What?" Fred replied on impulse, his mind still working on the fact that Mr. Blake would pay for the wedding.  Of course he knew this was traditional, but for some reason he'd forgotten that.  He'd have been perfectly willing to finance whatever kind of wedding Daphne dreamed up.  

            "We could have the wedding in May."  It was her favorite month, and already visions of a lovely spring wedding were dancing around in her head—pastel dresses, a reception outdoors with freshly-bloomed flowers all around...  it would be _perfect!_

            "Really?" Fred asked happily, bringing her back to the moment.

            "Really.  Unless that's too long," she smiled, teasing him again.

            "No.  No, I can wait," he grinned.  "I hope."

            "We're going to be busy, you know," she informed him, smiling just as widely.  "The time will go by before you know it.  But we _can_ do something now."

            "What?"

            "We've got to tell the gang!"

--------------------

            When the just-affianced couple descended the staircase a few minutes later, they quickly realized that they would have to say very little in order to communicate the news.  As if Shaggy's musical cue hadn't been enough to clue them in, it was totally obvious by their friends' instant looks of anticipation that they knew what nature of conversation had transpired upstairs.  Even Velma, who normally would have made an effort to be discreet about such things, was staring openly at them, a prompting half-smile on her lips.  Daphne didn't keep the group in suspense.  Jubilantly, she held her left hand out, letting her new ring make the announcement for them.

            All at once, the room came alive, with the silence of expectation giving way to excited squeals and immediate calls of congratulations.  Their friends came upon them in a small mass, with plenty of hearty claps on the back for Fred and hugs for the prospective bride.  Mary Jane held back until Velma had hugged her best friend, then bounded up with a quick, excited little hug of her own.  Fred was a little surprised at being embraced by his best friend Shaggy, and then even more surprised when Velma did the same, a little shyly.  She was just letting go when Scooby popped up at his side, tail wagging at incredible speed.  The Dane was thrilled at the news, and though he didn't say so, he figured it was about time!  He'd known that Daphne and Fred were the perfect mates for one another for years now.  After all, dogs often got a sense about these things, and even though Scooby was an unusual dog to say the least, he was no exception.

            The initial round of congratulations over, the young couple found themselves the recipients of tons of questions.  "When's the big day?"  Mary Jane asked.

            "In May sometime," Fred answered definitely.  "No date yet... but soon," he grinned.  

            "Wow, that's pretty fast," Ethan commented—not that he didn't understand the situation.  He'd gladly marry _his_ intended tomorrow, if he could.  With that thought, he turned immediately to look at Velma, meeting her eyes and sending an unvoiced question.  After glancing about for a moment, she answered it with a smiling nod.

            "Yeah, but we'll work it out," Fred replied confidently.  

            "And of course we want you all to be in it," Daphne chipped in.

            "Re roo?"  Scooby asked, his eyes wide.

            "Of course, Scooby," she said. 

            "Ro roy!"

            While fielding a few more questions, Fred noticed that Shaggy was laughing.  "What's so funny, Shag?" he queried amiably.

            "Nothing, man... it's just that I can't believe you proposed in your pajamas!"

            This brought a laugh from everyone, including Fred, for whom the pajama issue had caused such mortification not fifteen minutes earlier.  "All part of the plan," he joked, bringing more laughs.  "It works."

            "Yeah, it does," Ethan spoke up prominently, the tone in his voice causing immediate questioning looks.  Not knowing quite how to go on, he paused momentarily.

            "Velma......?" Daphne solicited, her voice rising in an expectant glissando.  The younger couple exchanged yet another look before Ethan went ahead.

            "We're engaged, too," he announced, drawing Velma to his side with one arm, then looking down lovingly at her.

            The group of friends burst into even more excited chatter.  "Since when?" Daphne exclaimed.  It seemed almost impossible that Velma wouldn't have told her right away.

            "This morning," Velma informed.

            "This morning!?"

            "Mmm hmmmm."

            "And you didn't say a word!  How did you hold it in?"

            "We knew that you were gonna propose, Fred—and we figured that just announcing it right before..." Ethan explained.

            "Thanks," Fred replied gratefully, understanding.

            "It was kinda spur-of-the-moment," Ethan went on.  "I mean—not really," he corrected, not wanting to give the wrong idea.  "The proposal was but the idea wasn't."

            "Well that explains this morning," Daphne added, eyes twinkling.  "I _thought_ something was up with you two.  So when is it?  The wedding?"

            "December," Velma supplied.  "And we want all of you in it, too."  She hadn't actually spoken the matter over with Ethan, but she knew he'd want her friends in the wedding.  Besides, they were his friends now, too, especially Fred.  Velma had to admit that had surprised her. She'd figured he'd be closer to Shaggy, who was more like him.  At any rate, it made her happy that the gang had so totally accepted Ethan.

            "That's more than half of us in one year," Fred observed, then turned with a sly smile to Shaggy.  "You've got some pressure now, Shag."  Both the beatnik and his girlfriend blushed in response.  They hadn't really talked about marriage yet, mostly because their relationship had been so long-distance and also because that, for them, settling down was a major decision.  Mary Jane, who was the youngest of the gang, also preferred to wait until she was a bit older.©  Still, both of them knew that when the time did come, they couldn't imagine being with anyone else.

            "Like, I think this calls for a song—whatdya think, Ethan?" Shaggy announced, sounding as if he were trying to divert attention away from Fred's joke—though he wasn't.  Ethan, who was collecting his fiancé into his arms after she had finished being hugged by Freddy and Daph, agreed.

            "I think I've got one," he said, moving to the guitars in the corner after gently guiding Velma to the couch.  Considering the fact that he didn't want to let go of her, it was a somewhat awkward affair, but he managed, then carefully handed her her new bass.

            "Shag, you want guitar?" he offered.

            "Nah, you go ahead.  I'll take the keyboard," Shaggy answered, coming over to the instrument that Fred had set up.  They'd been using it for Christmas carols the night before.  While he tested a few of the settings and the rest of the gang settled into various seats near the forming music group, Ethan plugged in his electric guitar and fiddled with the equipment.

            "R'I want rums," Scooby piped in, coming over.

            "You want drums?  Like, go to it, man!" Shaggy encouraged him.  His canine pal bounded into the kitchen to find some tuneful pots and pans on which to test his new drumsticks.  "Eth, what'd ya have in mind?" he asked, listening as Ethan tuned his guitar.  

            "How about this?"  Ethan began playing the opening to a very familiar tune, then stopped to await agreement.  His answer came in the form of smiles of recognition and the sound of Velma tuning her guitar.  He'd picked the song, which admittedly was not in his usual repertoire, mostly because it suited the occasion but partly because he knew Velma could play it.  Shaggy worked out a few experimental chords on the keyboard while Scooby set up his makeshift "drums" and Mary Jane eagerly picked up her tambourine.  Fred and Daphne sat on the loveseat watching the proceedings in a dreamy state, snuggled together, Daph's head resting gently on Freddy's shoulder.  This was the most wonderful Christmas, and they thanked God for it and for one another.  

            No doubt the other two couples shared their sentiment as they began, off a drum cue from Scooby, playing a song for the occasion.  The opening measures were played by Ethan on his guitar, soon joined by percussion and the dominant bass part.  Ethan smiled to hear his fiancé's playing, and when he came in a second later with the lyrics, he was singing straight to her.

**Imagine me and you, I do**

**I think about you day and night, it's only right**

**To think about the girl you love, and hold her tight**

**So happy together...**

Before starting in on the second verse, Ethan looked in the direction of his friends, signaling them to join his singing with a tip of his head.  Shaggy was concentrating on his keyboard, hoping to add a little to the next verse, but Mary Jane and Velma came in on the echo.  Freddy and Daph didn't know the lyrics to the song's verses, but they swayed along. If I should call you up, invest a dime 

**And you say you belong to me, and ease my mind**

**Imagine how the world could be so very fine**

**So happy together...**

Fred and Daphne might not have known the verse lyrics, but they certainly knew the familiar chorus and main verse, and when it came they sang with true gusto along with everyone else.  Mary Jane came in confidently with her tambourine while Shaggy switched over to the required horn setting on the keyboard; Ethan was just trying to get in a kiss with Velma before the chorus without getting jabbed by either of their guitars.

**I can't see me lovin' nobody but you for all my life**

**When you're with me baby the skies'll be blue, for all my life**

**Me and you, and you and me**

**No matter how they toss the dice, it had to be **

**The only one for me is you, and you for me **

**So happy together...**

The song had a lot of repeats, and each time through the main verse and chorus the gang got a little more ambitious—Shaggy tried out an interesting oboe-like setting and improvised, Velma and Mary Jane did some mostly-successful harmonization in the background vocals, and when the song had built itself up to its peak, Fred and Daphne hopped up and began dancing expertly.  Scooby absolutely went to town on his drums and even howled along a bit.  By the time the song was almost finished, everyone was singing at the top of their voices, knowing that this was only the beginning of what was already a perfect day... and the start of what looked to be one incredible year.

**Me and you, and you and me**

**No matter how they toss the dice, it had to be **

**The only one for me is you, and you for me **

**So happy together...**

**We're happy together   **

**So happy together...**

Author's notes:  And so ends the second story in the JOSD cycle.  Believe it or not, this was meant to be a fluff fic for Christmas, but wound up being a sequel.  Vel and Eth weren't even going to get engaged!  I'm thinking up ideas for the next one, "November Rain" but probably won't write it for some time.  However, the lyrics to that song (by Guns 'N Roses) give a very good idea of what it's about...

Oh, and I didn't want to put this disclaimer at the top of the page because it would kind of spoil the ending, but, obviously enough, the song lyrics aren't mine.  They are to "Happy Together" by The Turtles.    

  


* * *

© In case any of you were wondering, in this fic Mary Jane is 21, Velma and Ethan are 23, Daphne 24, Shag and Freddy 25.


End file.
